


Losing Control

by EmpathicTea



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Common Cold, Crying, Demisexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Male Character, Hockey, Hurt/Comfort, Jewish Character, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Light Angst, M/M, Male Character of Color, Messy, Multi, Music, Queer Character, Queer Themes, Sickfic, Sneezing, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, contagion, sick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 30,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpathicTea/pseuds/EmpathicTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>18-year-old Eli Rosenberg has never really been that interested in dating or sex.  But during a hockey championship trip, his best friend and goalie Corbin Meadows comes down with a bad cold that awakens something in Eli.  When teammate Liam Hathaway gets involved, a complex situation becomes even more delicate as the hockey players are forced to examine their feelings and desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Not Sick

**Author's Note:**

> **Losing Control Playlist**  
>  (in order of song appearance)
> 
> [Fall Out Boy - Thnks Fr Th Mmrs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JCF3yz-ONQ)   
>  [Evil Us - Clocks and Timepieces](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NzEqWRi4OAk)   
>  [Green Day - At the Library](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJE-fs6HjAI)   
>  [Incubus - Wish You Were Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZnUYsqw8BA)   
>  [Issues - Late](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kTvcW_s0FCo)

Settling into the window seat, Corbin Meadows lifted the heavy plastic barrier and examined the baggage loaders below. They moved quickly, efficiently, stowing the team's hockey equipment and luggage. Corbin pressed his cheek to the window, his soft brown hair falling in loose curls almost to his chin.

Eli, one of the centers, joined him, taking the aisle seat and leaving the middle open between them. Corbin barely noticed his teammate, who was deep in conversation with one of the defenseman, Bry, in the row directly behind them. Corbin reached up and adjusted the air; even in March, the Texas heat had raked itself over the players as they jostled through the Jetway and onto the plane.

Lightly, almost experimentally, Corbin sniffed.

_Must be the airplane air. I'm not getting sick. I pretty much never get sick._

As the flight attendant began the safety information, Corbin tuned out, and by the time the beverage cart came around, he was asleep, still leaning against the double-paned window.

A few hours later, he woke himself up with a sneeze, a rather forceful _Heh-ETTchuu!_ that sounded abnormally loud in the confines of the airplane cabin, perhaps even more so with the interior lights dimmed and the quiet darkness cushioning the aircraft.

"Bless you, man," Eli replied, almost automatically. He ran a hand over his spiky black hair, checking to make sure the gel still held.

"Thanks."

Peering through the window, Corbin could make out the hundreds of pinpoint lights below through a thin layer of cloud.

"We almost there?" he asked.

"Yeah. Coach says it's a tight turn around to make our connection."

Herding twenty teenage guys and their belongings through the Seattle airport was not an undertaking for the faint of heart. Even with a couple of parent chaperones, Coach Kissel felt more than a little overwhelmed. By some stroke of luck, however, the Alamo Blue Jays made it to the right gate and onto the plane. A mere three and a half hours later, they touched down in Anchorage.

It was nearly midnight by the time they arrived at their hotel and got settled into their rooms. Corbin was rooming with Eli, Liam (a winger), and Bry: two double beds and two trundles. They flipped a coin; Bry and Corbin got the trundles.

Corbin felt more tired than he should, even with the long flight. Eli, Liam, and Bry were wide awake, trading stats about the Alaska Aces players and speculating on the possibility of meeting any girls during the trip.

Liam Hathaway had longish, dark blond hair and light brown eyes, and tended to be a little accident-prone and graceless everywhere except on the ice. Put a hockey stick in his hands and skates on his feet, and suddenly he figured out how to not bump into everything. Bryan Torres, on the other hand, intentionally bumped into things on the ice. The defenseman was shorter than both Liam and Corbin; at 5'7", Bry was one of the shortest members on the whole team, but his stocky frame lent itself well to smashing his opponents into the boards. He kept his dark brown hair short but slightly messy, and spoke with a lilting Mexican accent. Bry was also the only one of the four who was still 17; the others had already celebrated their recent adulthood and sometimes teased him about being the "baby" of the group.

And then there was Elijah Rosenberg. Tall, almost as tall as Corbin, with dark hair, bright green eyes, and the kind of mannerisms that made Corbin wonder if the center had been part of the goth crowd at his previous high school.

As he listened to them talk while curled up under the blankets on the uncomfortable trundle, Corbin realized his nose was running, but he didn't have the energy to get up and find a tissue. He sniffled for the hundredth time since entering the hotel room.

_It's just the cold air. Fucking Alaskan weather._

Anchorage in March was a lot different than San Antonio in March. Corbin, along with most of the other guys, had not thought to bring a heavy jacket, and had been entirely unprepared for the lingering cold. He had worn a hooded sweatshirt over a t-shirt as they walked from the airport to the bus, and then from the bus into the hotel. It would've been easy to pick Corbin out of the group; his tall frame put him a couple inches above many of his teammates, and a few tendrils of hair had peeked out from his black hoodie.

The guys continued to chat, but one of the chaperones finally came by, reminded them of the long day ahead, and insisted on lights out. Eli, Liam, and Bry stayed up for awhile longer, but Corbin fell asleep, still sniffling.

He woke often throughout the night, usually to the sound of his own sneezes. Liam and Bry were heavy sleepers, but Corbin could hear Eli mumbling a blessing from his bed a few feet away, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Hihhh _Hep-TSCHUUU!"_

"Bless you. Again."

At six in the morning, after another pair of sneezes had woken him, Corbin gave up on sleep and instead sat up on the trundle and stared blearily at the darkened room. He needed a tissue, badly, and decided it wouldn't hurt to get a head start on the shower, since the four of them would all need to use it at some point.

After closing the bathroom door behind him, Corbin found the tissues built into the edge of the counter. He grabbed one, blew his nose thoroughly, and started the water. The steam helped to clear his clogged sinuses, and he stepped in and took several deep breaths through his nose.

_See? Not sick. Just a reaction to the altitude ch--_

"Hehhh hyehhh hiih! _Het-ISCHHuuu!_ Hihh! _Het-TSCHuuu! Het-ETschhuu!_ "

In the shower, Corbin didn't bother covering. He let the sneezes build up before releasing them freely, a bit of the spray catching his chest and mingling with the water. Long, slender fingers splayed against the tile wall as he braced himself against the harsh wetness of each sneeze.

Despite the wall between them, the sounds woke Eli, who had really only been dozing since Corbin's last sneezes. Eli propped himself up on an elbow and listened, feeling his cheeks flush. He imagined Corbin in the shower. His pale, gleaming skin. His soft, brown curls plastered to his cheeks. His smooth stomach and narrow hips.

"God," Eli mumbled.

In the shower, Corbin felt another sneeze building and decided to see if he could hold it back. Breathing through his mouth, he brought his right index finger under his nose, pressing it against his dampened nostrils.

He tried to think of non-sneezy things, but he kept getting images in his head of freshly-mowed lawns, fields of pollen-laden flowers, smoke from fragrant incense. Corbin imagined a swirl of incense haze curling around him, sliding into his nose.

"Hiiih, hehh _Het-ISCH! Het-ETTchoo! Het-ISsshhuu!_ Hhhh, ihhh! _ETT-chuu!_ "

The first two came out against Corbin's hand, soaking it; he quickly ran it under the water as the sneezes continued to come.

In his bed, Eli clamped down harder on his lower lip to keep from making a sound and slid his hand beneath the waistband of his sleep pants, toying with the idea of doing something about his arousal. After several moments of silence, he moved his hand back to his stomach and exhaled very slowly, then counted to twenty.

"Fuck," he whispered.

Scrubbing the back of his hand against his nose, Corbin sniffled several times.

_Not sick, not sick, not sick._

His accompanying headache spoke otherwise. The lanky goalie found the soap, unwrapped it, and closed his eyes as he rubbed the cream-colored bar across his collar bone, over his broad shoulders, and down his chest to his muscled stomach.

A knock on the bathroom door startled Corbin; his hazel eyes opened abruptly and he peered around the edge of the shower curtain, as if expecting to find someone there.

"Yeah?" he called.

"It's Eli. I need to pee, man."

"I'll be out in a sec."

When Corbin finished up, he wrapped himself in the small white hotel towel and opened the door. Eli rushed in and Corbin left, shutting the door behind him and heading to his suitcase, where he picked out clothes for the day.

Inside the bathroom, Eli locked the door, waited a few moments, flushed the toilet for effect, and started the shower water. He leaned against the wall, black hair contrasting with the white tile, and let his hand wander while he tried not to replay images of Corbin from the locker room. Before practice, putting on his gear. After practice, taking it all off. In the locker room shower. He paired those images with the recent sounds of Corbin's cold sneezes, and felt himself pulse in his hand. His arousal renewed, the pre-cum dribbled over his fingers, adding even more lubricant as he swallowed hard to block the moan that rose in his throat.

Slow strokes quickened with each image and fantasy, until Eli spilt a sticky wetness over his fingers, the creamy liquid quickly disappearing into the stream of water. Shivering with his release, Eli cleaned himself off, feeling aroused all over again at using the same soap Corbin had just used. Still hard, he considered attempting a second time, but fought back the desires, unsure how much longer he could justify staying in the shower.

"That's it," he murmured. "This trip is going to kill me. I am not going to make it home alive."

By the time Eli emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in another of the scratchy, starched towels, Corbin had pulled on a pair of loose-fitting blue jeans with scuffed hems and his hockey jersey over a plain black t-shirt. He was walking around barefoot, examining the hotel notepad, the ancient-looking rotary phone, the heavy curtains.

At that point, the morning picked up speed. Bry and Liam had their respective turns in the shower and everyone went down for breakfast before heading out on the bus to the Sullivan Arena.


	2. Okay, Maybe I AM Sick

The Sullivan Arena was a large, sprawling building used for all the Alaska Aces games, in addition to concerts and high school graduations. At the moment, it was set up for hockey, with the ice freshly smoothed.

The team had hauled their hockey gear from the hotel and stashed it in the locker room. Today, they would watch the Alaska Aces practice, and then they'd practice themselves to prepare for the National Youth Hockey Championship.

Coach Kissel led the guys to the away bench, where they pressed against the Plexiglas and low wall, elbowing each other.

Corbin ended up next to Bry, who looked a little cold in a t-shirt and jeans, a fine pattern of goose bumps visible along his brown arms. On Corbin's other side, Eli was chattering endlessly, offering comments on everything from the interior of the arena to the latest addition to the Aces team. Corbin interrupted the barrage of words with a trio of soft sneezes at least, soft compared to his usual ones.

"Hehhh... Hyhhh... _Hah-Aschhhuu! Heh-Kissshhh! ...Hep-Tschhh!_ ...Excuse me."

The first one seemed to surprise Corbin; he didn't get his hand up in time. A bit of damp spray caught Eli's thermal-clad arm and misted his hand. He froze, his mouth halfway open, as Corbin released the two subsequent sneezes, the slender, pale fingers of his right hand cupped protectively over his mouth and nose.

"Shit, do you have to keep doing that?" Bry growled, irritated.

Corbin didn't answer; he was too busy searching through his pockets for a tissue. Eli, meanwhile, had gone completely still, grateful that he was pressed up against the panels separating the away box from the rink, so the other guys couldn't see his erection. It had happened before he could even think, Corbin's sneezes causing a rush of blood until his cock had swelled, filling out his loose boxers and straining rather uncomfortably against his pants.

Thankfully for everyone, the Alaska Aces took the ice at that moment, and the Blue Jays forgot whatever they had been doing or saying.

* * *

It was an action-packed practice, followed by a meet-and-greet with the team before the Alamo Blue Jays donned their gear and skated out onto the ice.

Corbin already felt a bit light-headed, if not from simply being ill, than from all the forceful sneezing. He pressed on through the practice, though, throwing all of his energy into it, but he knew he wasn't playing at his best. Several times, he failed to block shots he could normally stop with ease. All of the gear didn't help, either the goalie equipment, usually comfortable, felt tight and constrictive. It trapped his increased body heat, and trails of sweat dripped into his bright hazel eyes. Lethargically, Corbin moved to block a shot by Liam, but his teammate slid the puck past the goal posts a good two inches from Corbin's pads. Liam circled around the back of the goal, peering at Corbin with deep brown eyes.

"Sucking a bit today, huh? Better get it together or you'll make us look bad," he commented, though his voice held no malice. Corbin managed a weak glare.

Afterward, in the locker room, Corbin showered quickly and changed back into his clothes. The air felt especially cold, and Corbin pressed a finger to his nose, determined to hold back yet another sneeze. Sniffling rapidly, he looked around for tissues. A few yards away, Eli leaned on his hockey stick, pretending to examine the latch on a locker while actually drawing his eyes over Corbin's embarrassed form. Tempted to keep watching his teammate sniffle and hold back the fluids from his illness, Eli decided instead to take pity on him. He grabbed a handful of toilet paper from one of the stalls in the bathroom area and walked up to Corbin. Wordlessly, he pressed the makeshift tissues into Corbin's free hand.

Pink, Corbin mumbled a thank-you, then wandered out and followed a hallway that led to an empty announcer's box. Eli watched from the hallway as Corbin entered and closed the door behind him. Standing there, his hair still dripping and no longer spiked after the shower, Eli debated following his teammate. Maybe Corbin wanted to be alone. Or maybe he needed a pep talk after not doing so great during practice.

This last thought made up Eli's mind, and he traced Corbin's steps, quietly entering the announcer's box to find his friend sitting on the floor, back against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest. Corbin had obviously used the toilet paper to blow his nose; the tissue lay crumpled to one side and his nose had a shiny, rosy look to it.

"Hey, man."

"Hey," Corbin answered, not looking up from his position with his chin on his knees.

"You doin' okay?"

"Ehh. I never get sick. Ever. And now, when I finally get to come here, and do this playoff thing, and meet the Aces, I get sick. It's so dumb." It was the first time he had admitted, to himself or anyone else, that he had fallen ill.

Eli leaned against the wall, then slid down so he was sitting next to Corbin.

"Everyone has off days, Cor. Hell, I have off weeks."

"You were great today."

Eli felt his cheeks flush; Corbin's praise surprised him. "Whatever. But point is, you know you're good. And so does Coach. And you'll get some rest tonight and be great for the playoffs."

"If I can even sleep. I'm up half the night sneezing," Corbin replied, sniffling as if to prove his point.

"I know," Eli answered before he could stop himself. "I mean, you wake me up. I mean, it's cool, man. I can fall back asleep."

Corbin massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "I try to hold them back, but it never helps."

Eli brought his knees to his chest, mimicking Corbin's position in an attempt to hide his growing arousal.

"Let me help?" he asked, then ducked his head, wishing he could pluck the words out of the air and stuff them back down his throat.

"Uhh... ooo-kay, whatever, if you think it will help." Corbin raised a brow, but made a small gesture with his hand as if to say he didn't really care.

"Well, do you have to sneeze right now?" Eli asked.

"Kind of, yeah. It's this tickle, kind of growing. Ever since the showers, really. I kept needing to sneeze while we were all showering off, but...." He trailed off, not really wanting to explain that he didn't want to annoy Bry even more.

"Okay, well... just relax and let it come. Warn me when it's close, and I'll try to stop it."

"Kay."

The two teens sat there, a few inches apart, with Corbin looking into Eli's bright green eyes, and Eli trying to look anywhere but at Corbin. After almost a minute, Corbin nodded his head and his breathing began to hitch.

"It's... cuhh... coming" he warned.

Eli touched the very tip of Corbin's nose with his right index finger, then stroked up the bridge, rubbing in tiny circles.

"Oh guhh... god..." Corbin gasped.

Applying slight pressure, Eli pinched the bridge and massaged it steadily. Corbin's breathing slowed as the sneeze faded. Eli's own breathing had picked up speed, and he could tell by the slight dampness in his boxers that he had coated himself with pre-cum once again.

"Damn, I think that worked," Corbin commented, a disbelieving tone in his voice.

Eli reluctantly withdrew his hand, but the lack of pressure made the tickle return in full.

"I... Hhh! _Hah-ASHuuuu! Heh-ASHHooo! Hah-ESCHuuuu!!_ "

Corbin did not get his hand up until after the first two sneezes had escaped, the germy spray lightly coating Eli's cheeks and lips. Stunned, the green-eyed center stared at Corbin for a long moment before twining his fingers into Corbin's wavy hair and kissing him urgently. Without even thinking, Eli slid his tongue between Corbin's lips, grip tightening in the goalie's hair until it was almost painful.

"WHAT. THE. FUCK?"

Corbin untangled himself from his teammate, jumped to his feet, and backed up several paces. "Seriously, Eli, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Corbin's pants felt uncomfortably tight, and he shifted slightly, then felt all the color drain from his face as he glanced down to confirm: he was hard. Not just a little hard, but fully erect and twitching. He saw Eli's eyes follow. Eli opened his mouth, though he had no idea what he could possibly say, but Corbin pushed past the sitting figure and rushed off to the bathroom, where he could at least shut himself away from Eli's piercing gaze.

In the announcer's box, Eli crammed his fists into his eyes, forcing away tears. The shock of Corbin's reaction had negated any pleasure; all arousal had passed, replaced by a numbing fear.

"Not here," he whispered. After several minutes of deep breaths, he stood up, brushed off his cargo pants, and went to rejoin the rest of the team.


	3. I'm Not Gay

It took Corbin awhile to find a bathroom far away from everything going on in the arena, but he finally located an obscure section of the seating with a single-stall men's room that felt more like a broom closet. Stepping inside, he shut and locked the door behind him. Turning to catch his reflection in the mirror, he scowled.

"Whatever. Just, whatever. I don't need this right now," he ranted to the paper towels. Pacing back and forth in the tight space, he tried to sort through everything that had just happened.

"Fucking perv," he hissed, though he wasn't quite sure if he meant Eli or himself. He forced himself to think of his failures during practice, which helped his erection abate. When he was soft, he glanced at the mirror.

Almost instinctively, he pressed his lips together, rubbing them as if spreading chapstick, as he remembered Eli's impulsive kiss. He felt a stirring in his pants again, and he whirled and punched the bathroom wall, which was made of painted brick.

"Fuck!" Corbin brought his right hand to his mouth, sucking on a scraped knuckle. "I'm not gay. I know I'm not gay. This is fucking insane," he rambled, examining his bruised fist.

He liked girls. A lot. He'd had a couple girlfriends, and even had sex with one. He remembered enjoying it. "See? Can't be gay. Fuck Eli."

Leaning against the wall, he sighed.

"I just have to go back and prove it. Stand right next to him and show my body that there's nothing. That I'm not fucking gay."

In the midst of his irrationality and panic, it seemed like a good plan, although Corbin wasn't quite sure he wanted to face Eli. Ultimately, he didn't have much of a choice he had to go back eventually. Exiting the bathroom, he found his way back to the locker room, where two or three stragglers were gathering up their gear. Coach was waiting by Corbin's equipment.

The talk was brief, yet embarrassing. Coach pointed out Corbin's sub-par performance, reminded him of the upcoming playoffs, and told him not to let something like a little cold make a sissy out of him.

After the scolding, Corbin grabbed his stuff and stalked off to the bus, feeling humiliated and frustrated: at himself, at Coach, at Eli....

The bus ride was blissfully short; he sat in the back and pretended to watch the scenery from the window. For awhile, the barren landscape really did take his mind off of everything. He managed to avoid Eli for the rest of the evening as the team got dinner and returned to the hotel. Back in the room, however, there was no help for it.

Corbin sat awkwardly on the trundle, flipping through a paperback book he had brought, though he wasn't actually reading it. Bry and Liam had gone to the hotel pool with several other guys and one of the team chaperones. Eli lounged on his bed, toying with a guitar pick, looking at his Alaska Aces trading cards, and pretending Corbin didn't exist.

At last, after nearly half an hour, Corbin got up and stood next to Eli's bed. The center glanced up, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not gay, Eli."

Silence.

"Look, the kiss just reminded me of Sianna. You know I never really got over her after the Winter break."

More silence.

"Fuck, I'll prove it. Kiss me again, and I'll show you there's nothing."

"Cor, I..." Eli spoke for the first time, his expression a mixture of shame, discomfort, and restrained desire.

"Do it. I'm not gay."

Reluctantly, Eli got to his feet. He was a few inches shorter than Corbin, so he tilted his face slightly to look at the older teen. The dark, wavy hair. The defiant hazel eyes. The pinkish nose, a bit damp around the nostrils. Eli could tell Corbin was trying not to sniffle. The gently parted lips.

Was the promise of another kiss worth the threat of getting punched? Eli wasn't sure his friend would actually react with violence, but the concern arose nonetheless. A quick glance to Corbin's hand told him Corbin had punched _something_ earlier.

The two teens studied each other. Corbin nearly bursting with the need to prove himself, Eli trembling with the ache of wanting something so impossibly forbidden. Though he tried to will his body to cooperate, Eli realized he was hard, again.

The smallest of sniffles broke the silence as Corbin gave into the wetness in his nose. Making up his mind, Eli nodded.

"Fine. But let me do it the way I want, good and proper, so you can prove to me for sure."

"Fine."

Eli hesitated, then took Corbin into his arms. He nuzzled his nose to Corbin's, feeling the warm moistness rub off along his skin. His breath came slow and shivery. Tentatively, Eli lapped with the tip of his tongue at Corbin's lower lip until the goalie opened his mouth. Sliding his tongue into Corbin's mouth, Eli licked experimentally at his teammate's lips, the inside of his cheek, the length of his tongue.

Corbin found himself trying to picture unsettling scenes: that car wreck last month on I-10, a chapter worth of calculus problems, the dead crickets that piled up on the sidewalks during the summer. He felt vaguely triumphant at his softness, even with Eli's gentle tongue teasing him, until something happened that overwrote all other emotions with a blanket of unparalleled terror: the door opened.


	4. Still Not Gay

Yanking away from Eli just in time, Corbin scrubbed his bare arm over his mouth and tried not to look ridiculously suspicious. Fortunately, Bry and Liam seemed lost in conversation, apparently about some girl who had been in the pool.

"She wanted me," Bry crowed.

"She didn't even notice you!" Liam retorted.

"She swam over to where I was."

"Yeah, to talk to her friend. Face it, dude, she didn't even register you."

"Whatever. You spent the whole time talking with Jaime. Fag."

Corbin visibly winced at the slur, and Eli went ashen. Even though Corbin knew he wasn't gay, it was obvious Eli was, and he felt a stab of sympathy for the guy. Mixed with a renewed determination to prove the label did not apply to himself.

"Can you two shut up for five minutes?" he asked, only half teasing as he headed back to the trundle and picked up his book.

Eli, who had been quite hard just moments before, during the illicit kiss, now somewhat curled around himself, almost protectively. Lacking Corbin's ability to fake banter, he simply picked up the Alaska Aces playing cards he had tossed on the nightstand and stared unseeingly at them.

Bry took his shower first, while Liam perched on the edge of his bed and continued to talk to no one in particular.

"It's not a bad pool. You guys should check it out tomorrow."

Corbin made a noncommittal noise as he read and re-read the same few sentences in his book again and again, trying not to look at Eli.

"All the swimming pools in Alaska must be indoor," Liam continued, drawing patterns on his arm with his fingertips. "I mean, it gets so cold here. I bet no one swims in lakes, or they'd freeze. A lake would be cool, though. Better than a pool. I mean, I like the pool, but it's just the chlorine tends to get to my nose." He sniffled, as if to prove it.

Corbin stole a glance at Eli and saw the center had turned a very cute shade of pink. _Dumb shade of pink_ , Corbin automatically corrected himself. Instantly, an idea came to mind: this would be a great time to tease Eli, who seemed to have a thing for sneezing. Get him back for earlier, Corbin thought.

"Really?" Corbin asked. "Like, does it sting, or does it get you sneezy?"

"God, really sneezy. I think I sneezed a hundred times in the pool."

"Ew, you sneezed into the pool water?" Corbin laughed.

"No, asshole, I covered my mouth," Liam shot back, tossing a pillow at the dark-haired goalie. "Unlike some people, I always c... cuhh... _Kissheww! Uh-KISHHh!_ "

True to his word, Liam did cover, turning his face into the crook of his arm. He was still naked except for his swim trunks, with his towel laid out underneath him so he didn't get the blanket wet on his bed. Liam's slightly-curly dark blond hair stuck to his face, brown eyes slowly opening after the second sneeze, lashes wet and clustered together.

"Bless you," Corbin offered.

"Dohh don't... bless me... yet," Liam breathed. "Alwuhhh... uhhh... cuuhh come in th... _uhh-KISSHeewwww!_ " He sniffled wetly. "Threes."

Tossing a glance at Eli once more, Corbin noticed his teammate was biting down so hard on his lower lip, it had turned white. _Too much fun._

"Really? Me, too. Sometimes I have more, though, especially when I'm sick," Corbin explained.

"Me, too. Last year, I got this really bad cold right around Thanksgiving, and I literally could not stop sneezing. It was like sneezing every other breath," Liam described. "I think I ended up getting my cousin sick, too."

Corbin noticed how wet Liam was as the winger gestured, a few water droplets flinging from his hand. Pale scars dipped their way below his nipples, and Corbin wondered, not for the first time, if Liam had undergone some type of lung surgery. Eli had adjusted so that he was lying on his stomach now, and Corbin found himself distracted from Liam's body by the thrill of success he felt, as he assumed Eli had become hard and needed to hide it. Eli's firm rear curved gently under the flannel cloth of his pajama pants, a mesmerizing shape that tugged at Corbin's insides.

_Time to turn up the heat._

"I just hate it when sneezes get stuck. But there's a spot on my nose I can rub if that happens. Always works to get the sneezes out," Corbin explained.

"Really?" Liam was curious.

"Yeah. I'll show you."

For the sake of demonstration, Corbin came and sat on the edge of Eli's bed, near the center's waist. Eli scooted over a bit and took the opportunity to slide under the bedcovers. Even under the blankets, Corbin could still see the enticing shape of Eli's bottom, separated from his hand by a scant few inches.

"Cold in here," Eli mumbled.

"Yeah, it's fucking freezing," Liam answered, a small shiver working its way through his body. "I hope Bry gets done soon so I can shower and change."

"Yeah, right. Bry always takes forever," Corbin replied. It was true; the defenseman was infamous for his extended locker room showers, and, rumor had it, he took even longer at home.

"Show me how you coax out the sneeze," Liam requested, changing to a cross-legged position on his bed, which was only three feet or so away from Eli's bed. Eli looked from the Alaska Aces trading cards to Liam, then back at the cards, as if he were unsure whether to watch his teammates or feign disinterest. In truth, he was intensely interested and beyond uncomfortable. His erection pressed insistently against the bed sheets and now, under the covers, he surreptitiously moved his right hand to his waist in preparation.

Corbin eyed the slight movement under the covers and tried not to grin. Eli seemed alternately terrified and aroused; Corbin was dying to know which would win out.


	5. Okay, Maybe I... Dammit

"Like this," he answered to Liam. Corbin turned slightly, giving Eli a perfect view of his pink nose, parted lips, and pale throat. Corbin took his thumb and forefinger and used them to lightly rub at the bridge of his nose, moving in tiny circles. It was similar to the movement Eli had tried only hours before, but higher up on the bridge. A tickle had already been teasing at Corbin's nose during the discussion. Now, with the help of his fingers, it began to fade away. But, just as before, he moved his fingers and inhaled slowly through his nose, letting the tickle flare up.

"Ihhh... iyyiihh! ... _Hep-TCHSSssssh! Hep-Tissshuuu!_ Iiihhh, ihh! Ihh! _Ihh-EyEESSHHuuuu!_ "

Dutifully, Corbin brought his hands to his face, cupping them over his nose and mouth, but he left a bit of space between them, though it wasn't visible from Liam's position. Consequently, though he appeared to have covered his sneezes, a bit of the germ-filled spray escaped, faintly misting Eli, who now had his right hand firmly squeezing his cock. He tried to be as subtle as possible, restricting his movements, though he longed to stroke himself freely and intensely, warm palm coated with a layer of pre-cum.

"Wow, bless you, man," Liam offered, surprised the trick had actually worked.

"Now you try," Corbin suggested, shifting his position on the bed, which pressed his hip against Eli's, though the latter still curled under the covers. Payback for earlier, he thought, willfully refusing to further interrogate his own reasons for teasing the quiet center who had such a strange and unwanted sway over Corbin's body.

"Okay. How did you grip again?" Liam asked.

Corbin held up his thumb and forefinger. "You have to massage lightly, kind of in circles.

"Okay." Liam mimicked the motion, stroking his long fingers along the sides of his nose. "God, that tickles so much," he muttered. "It's not quite enough to make me sneeze, though."

"Here, I think you're doing it wrong," Corbin explained, rising and moving over to the other bed. This gave him a full view of Eli, who remained under the covers, now not bothering to pretend he wasn't watching his teammates.

Corbin scooted close, ostensibly to get a better angle to help Liam. This placed him merely inches away from the still-dripping winger, who smelled strongly of chlorine and faintly of Axe Body Spray.

"Do it like this," he demonstrated, using his thumb and index finger to rub at Liam's nose. Corbin made sure to hold his arm away at an angle, so Eli could watch him try to tease a sneeze out of Liam.

"It's... wuuh... working..." Liam breathed. "I nuuh... need to sn uhhh _uhh-KISShh! KISHH! KISSHhhheww!_ Wow, Cor, that's really effehh... effectihh... _Uhh-Kisshhh! Uhhhh-KissSCHHH!_ Uhh! Uhh... _Uhh-KiSCHHeewwwwww!_ "

Liam released not three, but six very wet sneezes, covering each by turning into the crook of his arm, where the copious spray blended in with the water droplets from his swim.

Cheeks flushed, Eli stammered out a "bless you," while Corbin realized with horror that he was more than semi-hard. He struggled to come up with some sort of explanation for his reaction. Was it that he enjoyed teasing Eli that much? Was it Liam's helplessness and vulnerability? Corbin tried to envision dozens of hockey pucks whizzing past his glove, sailing past his pads, and slapping into the back of the net, followed by an earful from Coach. The scenario of utter failure helped steady him, though he had apparently missed a comment addressed to him.

"Cor?" Liam asked, poking his friend in the side. "I asked if I'm doing it right."

Liam had his fingers back on his nose, determined to figure it out for himself.

"Yeah, that's it," Corbin replied at last, tossing a furtive glance at Eli. Eli was staring at Corbin as if he knew, like he could sense the confusion and stirrings of arousal the goalie felt. Corbin felt transparent, as if Eli could see through his flushed skin and into his chest cavity. _Why am I doing this? Why do I want to get to Eli so bad?_

"I thihh... think I've guhhh... uhhh... got it..." Liam began. Corbin and Eli stared at each other, listening to Liam's torturous build ups, before finally wrenching their eyes away and watching as their teammate dissolved into another sneezing fit. The sneezes came quickly, wetly, with barely any hitching of breath in-between. Corbin watched Liam's face: closed eyes, pink nose, damp spray visible in the room's soft lighting.

"Geez, you done yet?" Corbin asked after the eighth sneeze, prodding Liam's knee with a finger. His voice felt vaguely husky, tinged with a different sort of tone that immediately caught Eli's attention and burned him through with an unspeakable jealousy.

Liam shook his head, distracted by Corbin's touch.

" _Uhh-Kiiischhheww!_ "

The wetness from Liam's sneeze caught Corbin full in the face, a few droplets actually sliding down his cheek.

"Eww, gross, man!" Corbin exclaimed, jumping off the bed and grabbing a discarded t-shirt from his suitcase to wipe off his face. "And you say I don't cover. That's sick, dude."

"Damn, sorry," Liam laughed, sniffling two or three times and eyeing his drenched arm. "I guess my sneezes are pretty wet."

"Kay, well, I'm going to see if Bry is ever going to finish," Corbin managed. He stalked toward the bathroom door and raised his hand to knock on it, but Bry pushed it open, almost hitting Corbin on his way out.

"Fuck, all I hear in the shower is sneezing, sneezing, sneezing," Bry growled. "You guys are fucking weird. And I swear to God, Cor, if you get me sick, I'mma kick your ass."

"Whatever, man. Liam's the one to watch out for," Corbin returned, pushing into the bathroom and washing off his face at the sink with soap and warm water.

Bry changed into jeans and a t-shirt, then stomped out of the hotel room, not bothering to announce where he was going so close to bedtime. Corbin had seen him grab his phone before heading out, and figured the moody defenseman was probably planning on calling his girlfriend in some deserted nook before lights out.

Back in the room, Liam disappeared into the bathroom for his turn in the shower, leaving Eli and Corbin alone again. Corbin pointedly ignored Eli and laid down on his trundle, pulling the covers up over his face and pretending to go to sleep. He didn't have to pretend for long; the practice, the illness, and the high amounts of stress had all taken their toll, and he fell into a hazy dreamland within minutes. Eli watched the unmoving lump beneath the blankets, trying to sort through everything that had happened that day. In all of the commotion earlier, only Eli had noticed that Corbin had been impossibly hard earlier when he went to wash Liam's sneeze from his face.


	6. Time to Figure It Out

Corbin awoke with a splitting headache, at nearly three in the morning. He tried to go back to sleep, but it was obvious after 20 minutes that it was a losing battle. What he needed was NyQuil, and, knowing better than to try to involve any adults in his search, he simply pulled on a hoodie, grabbed his wallet, and crept out of the hotel room. From his bed, Eli watched the tall, lanky teen ease the door closed.

It had not been an easy year for Eli. A military brat, Eli had spent the first several years of his life moving from military base to military base, making surface-level friendships only to find himself whisked away within the year. While the constant moving and multiple deployments had been hard on Eli, they were harder on his mother, and she initiated a divorce that would have dissolved into a long, protracted battle, had Eli's father survived the latest tour to Iraq. Guilt was a funny thing, and with his mother embroiled in a crippling depression, Eli attempted to sort out his feelings on his own. His mother had urged him to speak to a rabbi or reach out to the Jewish community in San Antonio, but Eli, who leaned more toward agnostic, wrestled through it with music instead.

After a couple years, she remarried, some successful businessman who had time for her but not for Eli, which Eli took as a relief. It had meant moving to Alamo Heights, a privileged part of San Antonio, where many of the kids had grown up ensconced in considerable wealth. The differences added to Eli's feelings of being an outsider, though he feigned inclusion so as not to worry his mother. Joining the hockey team had been a wise decision--while he didn't fit in entirely, at least he could mostly forget about financial status and being Jewish, and instead focus on proving himself on the ice. Hockey came with teammates, too, some of whom had the potential to be actual friends.

Between all the moving and constant inability to sustain relationships, Eli hadn't let himself get close to anyone in many years. While other kids talked about crushes or dates for the dance, Eli turned to schoolwork and sports to occupy his time. It's not that he wasn't interested, just that he, well wasn't that interested. His parents' marriage had also not endeared him to the idea of getting involved with anyone. He might've been teased for his apparent lack of interest in girls, had anyone really noticed him, but Eli kept a low profile, staying to himself. Even internally, Eli avoided probing assessments of his affections and motivations.

Yet now, having kissed Corbin, twice, he couldn't hold back the sickening suspicion he had quashed for so long: _I like guys._

It was absurd, only just now figuring it out, here on this incredible hockey trip to the Youth Hockey Nationals, at this point in his life, when college was around the corner and he should've been thinking about all those parties with all those girls. But all he could think about was Corbin.

Corbin, who would save him a seat in biology. Corbin, who ate his lunch sandwiches by biting off the crusts first. Corbin, who had the most beautiful hazel eyes. Eli sighed quietly. Lusting after his teammate was one thing: problematic, inconvenient, maybe even dangerous. But falling for his teammate was, quite possibly, the worst thing that could happen in Eli's life.

"This is fucking ridiculous," he hissed into the darkness, immediately covering his mouth, though both Bry and Liam remained fast asleep.

Corbin's behavior had been completely confounding. First, he had yelled at Eli, but then he had gotten hard from the kiss. Then, he had actually asked Eli to kiss him again, but only to prove that he wasn't gay. And that hadn't seemed to get him hard. But then, what the fuck was all of that sneezing stuff about with Liam? It had felt like Corbin was intentionally trying to turn Eli on, but why? And then what was with his hard-on after Liam sneezed? The whole day had been utterly mystifying. And now Corbin had sneaked out to god-knows-where to do god-knows-what, and Eli was wide awake, having conversations with himself in his head.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," he mumbled. He knew things would only get more complicated from here. Either Corbin would tell everyone, brand Eli a fag, and end their friendship, or Corbin would keep it a secret but hold it over Eli in some twisted blackmail, probably with continued teasing. Both options sounded miserable.

Sick with anxiety, Eli considered texting Corbin, but decided against it. What would he say? _It's three in the morning and I'm worried about you and by the way I might be in love with you?_ Instead, Eli slipped out of bed and decided to go for a walk in the hotel. Mr. Keller was supposed to trade off with Mr. Barassi, watching the hallway all night to make sure the guys didn't wander off and start trouble. But when Eli opened the door into the corridor, he found no one. Maybe one of the two adults had followed Corbin and was doling out some sort of punishment for breaking lights-out. Eli rolled his eyes at the concept. Most of the team was eighteen, and therefore adults, and Eli believed it was more than a little silly that they couldn't come and go as they pleased.

The hallway felt cold to Eli, who still wore only his pajama pants, feet bare on the flat, dark carpeting. He leaned against the door frame and tried to breathe normally, worried a full-blown anxiety attack was coming if he couldn't calm himself down.

"There's always college," he whispered into the dimness. "I could go away, somewhere no one else is going, and start over. ...If this all goes to shit."

"If what all goes to shit?" Corbin asked, coming up on Eli's right and startling the center into a nervous jump.

"Fuck, Corbin, don't do that," Eli seethed, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"Sorry," Corbin replied, contrite, then coughed roughly into his fist.

The two stared at one another for a bit, Corbin shifting from one foot to the other, digging at the carpet with the toe of his skater shoe. Finally, Corbin broke the silence with a series of partially-stifled sneezes, the quietest Eli had heard to date.

"Ihhh... _Iihh'ixxxssst! Hep'xxsshh! Heh'ixxxshh!_ "

"...bless you," Eli offered in a dull voice, so anxious and worn out and confused that even Corbin's sneezes couldn't improve his mood.

"Why do you like it so much?" Corbin blurted.

Eli eyed his teammate warily and just shook his head. "We're not having this conversation. Maybe we just shouldn't have any conversations. It's late, Corbin."

Corbin looked from his shoelaces to Eli's pained expression, then back to his shoes. "I know. I just... needed some medicine." He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and held up a small bottle of NyQuil. Deftly, he removed the plastic, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig, guestimating the appropriate dose with surprising accuracy. Afterward, he made a face and replaced the cap, then stole another glance at Eli.

"I'm getting some sleep. 'Night, Corbin," Eli muttered, and turned, reaching for the door handle. Right as he realized he had not brought his key card with him and was effectively locked out, Corbin touched his arm.

"Eli, wait."

Eli moved to face Corbin once more, tousled hair falling in his face, eyes lined with tiredness and hurt. "What?"

"...Nothing." Without another comment, Corbin fished his keycard from his pocket and inserted it in the door, then pushed the door open for Eli, who walked in without a word and climbed back into bed.


	7. Game One: Lakewood Hawks

Corbin tugged on his goalie gear and muffled a cough against his shoulder, trying desperately not to attract Bry's attention. His head felt thick with confusion and sickness, and he sniffled wetly, wishing he had thought to buy some DayQuil along with the NyQuil during his illicit midnight trip to the convenience store across the street from the hotel. Eli had not so much as glanced at him all morning, a thought that settled in Corbin's stomach like a heavy stone. Bry had avoided him, too, uttering some proclamation about germs and the good of the team. Only Liam had come within arm's length of Corbin, and only to toss a bewildered smile at him as he searched through his suitcase before the team had left for the Sullivan Arena.

Now, as they filed onto the ice, Corbin felt the absence of his friends as a palpable loss, and he hated it. He hated himself even more for knowing he had driven Eli away. The quiet center seemed hunched in on himself, skating aimlessly with the others, face pallid. Dark rings had settled under his beautiful green eyes, the purple color contrasting in a way that made Corbin want to stare, but he tore his gaze away and skated laps with the others, barely listening to the announcer who called out the details of the game for the sizable crowd. It was cold on the ice, but Corbin still felt feverish, skin flushed pink from illness and nose red and chapped from the constant sniffling and sneezing.

The first period did not go well: Lakewood scored three goals in the first ten minutes, and Coach pulled Corbin and put in Zander Espinoza, the other goalie for the Alamo Blue Jays. On the bench, Corbin buried his head in his hands and avoided eye contact with the rest of his teammates. He felt completely pathetic. He even sounded pathetic, with his scratchy, stuffed-up voice and frequent coughing. Every once in awhile, the urge to sneeze would well up in him, but he fought it back fiercely, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly between his thumb and forefinger and breathing carefully through his mouth.

By the end of the third period, the Alamo Blue Jays had managed a miraculous comeback, winning against the Hawks 5-4. The National Youth Hockey Championship was sudden-death, so any loss would mean the end. It was a lot of pressure, and Corbin had been looking forward to the intensity, until the cold and the mess with Eli had wrecked him.

After the game, Corbin showered and changed in complete silence, forcing himself to suppress the tickle in his throat and nose.

Coach had some activities planned around the city, but Corbin opted to stay behind at the hotel, both out of shame over his performance and utter misery at being so sick. Mr. Keller stationed himself at the business office in the hotel lobby where he could ostensibly make sure Corbin didn't cause any trouble, but that was actually laziness on Mr. Keller's part, as there were several side staircases the sick goalie could put to good use if he chose. He didn't choose, however. Corbin remained in the hotel room, curled up on the trundle with his book. He had not read more than two paragraphs when Eli entered, still refusing to look at Corbin.

"You're not with the rest of the team?" Corbin asked.

"No. I was about to go, but I... I don't feel well," he muttered, eyes on the ground.

Corbin could not tell if Eli was lying or telling the truth. It seemed he could not tell anything about Eli, not even how he felt about him. For a horrifying moment, Corbin wondered if Eli had actually caught his cold. He stared at his teammate, searching his face for signs of sickness.

"Are... are you okay?" Corbin asked, finally. Eli still stood by his bed, as if unsure where to go or what to do.

"I have a headache," Eli answered quietly.

Corbin's first thought was to give the center a hug, but he shook that off, angry with himself for all of the conflicting emotions.

"I... have some NyQuil, if you want it," Corbin offered hesitantly.

"You put your mouth on it," Eli answered automatically. "In the hallway. When you took some last night."

"Oh. I... yeah. I'm sorry."

Eli kept his eyes on the wall, the floor, the bed, anywhere but on Corbin.

"I'm gonna take a nap," Eli stated, voice still uncharacteristically dull.

"Okay." Corbin looked away as Eli stripped down to his cargo pants and slid under the covers of his bed. He tried again to return to his book, but found himself unable to stop thinking about the game earlier and the mess he had made of their defense before Coach had put in Zander. It killed Corbin to know he could've played better, working harder at stopping those pucks. After re-playing several of the opposing team's goals in his head, Corbin finally sat up on his elbows and sighed, stifling a cough into his fist. He glanced over at Eli's bed and saw Eli had already crashed out, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted.

Corbin found himself quietly approaching the side of the bed and sitting on the floor, face inches from Eli's. The sleeping center did not stir, and his breathing remained deep and regular. Corbin impulsively smoothed a lock of hair from Eli's face in a movement so tender it shocked and disgusted him. Recoiling, he jerked his hand away and folded his arms over his chest, but he didn't move from his position near the bed. His nose was beginning to run again, and he sniffed several times, trying hard to keep the sound hushed. The sniffling only caused a tickle, however. Corbin scrubbed at the tip of his nose with his wrist, breathing hitched already.

"Ihhh... hhh! Hhhhh! _Ih'ixxxshhhh! Xsstt! Ha'Nnggxx!_ " Trying desperately to hush his sneezes, Corbin tilted away from the bed and buried his nose into his shoulder, misting it with the spray before returning his attention to his sleeping teammate. Eli let out a low sound that might've been a moan but did not wake, and Corbin's reaction was immediate. His skin flushed and he bit his lip sharply, then growled under his breath in annoyance with himself. Everything felt so confusing. Why was he so interested in getting a reaction out of Eli? He could not understand himself at all. But he wanted to hear it again. Eli's moan.

Corbin inched closer and leaned over, nose brushing Eli's ear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said those things, and I'm sorry I gave you my cold." He sniffled once more, then whispered, "I... need to sneeze," and felt a rush of arousal as Eli whimpered in his sleep.

"God," he muttered, realizing he was hard and not even caring why anymore.

Eli mumbled something incomprehensible and Corbin tried to figure out how he would explain this if his friend actually woke up and discovered him here next to the bed.

"I'd be so fucked," he muttered, and that made him wonder how he'd explain any of this to his teammates, his parents, people at school.

That thought was an effective antidote to his libido, and he stood up suddenly, angrily, wishing he could gear up and go slam a few hockey opponents into the boards. He settled for pulling on his hoodie, exiting via a side staircase, and heading out to the back of the building, where he kicked the dumpster until he couldn't feel his toes.


	8. Game Two: Bishop Penguins

Eli managed to go the rest of the afternoon and evening without acknowledging Corbin's existence. If Liam or Bry thought anything was strange, they chose not to offer their thoughts. Eli suspected, however, that the two hadn't really noticed. Liam was the type of happy-go-lucky guy who seemed cheerfully oblivious to just about everything, while Bry remained withdrawn and distant, still acting as if everything Corbin had touched was covered in contagion.

And it might have been. Eli woke on their third day in Anchorage with a runny nose, his head still pounding.

_Lovely. And now I've caught his cold._

Eli marveled at how something so intimate could be shared between two people who would not even look at each other. A sneezy sensation settled in the back of his nose, but he fought it fiercely.

Sneezing had started all of this. Corbin's frequent sniffles and the moist, uncovered sneeze that had preceded their kiss in the announcer's box. _What was I even thinking?_

Everything had been going well. No one had bullied him in months and he had quietly eased into the camaraderie of the team, at least to the extent that he didn't feel on the outside anymore. And he had jeopardized all of that to impulsively kiss the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

Head still half under the covers, Eli sniffed, then stifled a sneeze in perfect silence. It felt vulnerable, to sneeze, now that Corbin seemed to know. And the last thing he wanted to be right then was vulnerable. Well, the last thing he wanted to be right then was gay, but he planned to stifle that as perfectly as the sneeze.

* * *

1-1 at the end of the first, and at least the Alamo Blue Jays were giving as good as they got. Coach had started Corbin, giving him a chance to redeem himself. The Bishop Penguins played well, taking advantage of a power play to score on Corbin, bringing it to 1-2. Corbin did not feel any better than he had yesterday, but the frequent sneezing had given way to coughing fits, which at least didn't remind him of Eli. They still hadn't talked, which Corbin told himself was just fine, although he couldn't stop thinking about the whimpering sound Eli had made in his sleep.

Miraculously, the Blue Jays' offense tied up the game and won it in overtime, but Corbin knew he still hadn't played his best. Winning against the Penguins meant they advanced to play the Dallas Mustangs, and then there were two more games. Or maybe three? Coach had explained all the details, but Corbin had been too busy trying not to sneeze. On the bright side, though, he'd probably be over the cold by the last games.

Today, they played the Penguins in the morning and the Mustangs in the afternoon. Now, after the game (which they won 4-2), the team hauled all of their gear back to the bus and returned to the hotel room, where the chaperones had pizza ready.

Bry grabbed a slice and disappeared into the hallway with it, while Liam grabbed a couple pieces, put some napkins over them, and stashed the plate on top of the dresser.

"You're not hungry?" Corbin asked, keenly aware of Eli on the bed, eating by himself.

"I am, but I want to go swimming again. I can always eat later." Despite practices and multiple games in one day, Liam still had boundless energy.

"I'll go with you," Corbin offered, not wanting to be left alone with Eli again.

"Great! It's a really nice pool," Liam began, chatting to Corbin amiably as they found their swim trunks.

Liam, as always, changed in private. It had seemed so weird at the start, that the winger never got completely naked to change or shower with the rest of the team. There were all sorts of rumors about it, the most popular one being that Liam had leukemia and had some sort of immune system reason for not showering out in the open. It was old gossip by now, their senior year, and it felt natural to Corbin that Liam excused himself to put on his swim trunks behind closed doors.

Once they left, Eli, now completely alone, put down the pizza he had not actually been eating and buried his face in his pillow. The tickle that had plagued his nose throughout the day had returned once again, and this time, instead of silently stifling, he let out the sneezes against the fabric.

"Ahhhh... _Aishhh! Aissshuu!_ "

Wet spray issued from his mouth, coating the pillow and slowly seeping into the fabric. Groaning from the pain in his throat, Eli rolled over on his back and closed his eyes.

"This would be so much easier if I could just hate you," he whispered. "I want to hate you. Except I don't. All I want to do is take care of you. And now I'm sick and you'd never want to take care of me."

Eli felt tears prickling behind his eyes, and he sniffled, scared to give into the urge to sob. To distract himself, he found his iPod and put in his ear buds, scrolling through his music until he found Fall Out Boy's semi-recent hit, "Thanks fr th Mmrs." He picked up his pizza again and took a bite. _I am not going to cry._ He chewed and swallowed painfully, then took another bite. _I am not going to cry._


	9. Losing Control

"Here, let's dive for this," Liam suggested, tossing a spare hockey puck from one hand to the other.

The pool was quiet this late at night, with only a couple other people there, mostly sticking to the shallow end. Liam and Corbin jumped into the deep end and began diving for the puck. After a few minutes, though, Liam stopped, moving over to hold onto the ladder, dark-blond hair sticking to his cheeks.

"What's wrong?" Corbin asked, then remembered their conversation the other night.

_Oh my god, he's going to start sneezing._

"It's... the chlorine. Hold on, I n... nnehh... need t... tuhh... to... uhhhh... _KISHHeewww! Kishhhh! KisssSHHH!_ "

Liam held onto the ladder with one hand, closed his eyes, and buried his face in the crook of his other arm to catch the sneezes. When Liam lifted his head, Corbin could see the glistening spray along the winger's arm. He tried to steady his breath but realized he had once again managed to get an erection, this time in a public pool.

_Great. This isn't even my thing, and I'm hard. Why? Because Eli would like it? Because he'd want to go give Liam a little queer cuddle?_

"Bless you," Corbin offered, trying to sound casual.

"Thanks," Liam replied, sniffling several times and using the heel of his hand to rub the tip of his nose. "Here, race ya!"

He tossed the puck back down into the pool and the two chased after it for a bit. Liam won most of the time, but Corbin wasn't really trying. He knew the winger would start sneezing again soon, and the thought reminded him of Eli, who was alone in the hotel room, obviously sick with Corbin's cold.

_He's alone and it's my fault. All of this is my fault. And I'm diving for pucks?_

After a couple more rounds, Liam paused again, made his way to the ladder, and started breathing shallowly. This time, however, the sneezes seemed stuck.

"Ugh, god. How did that thing go, that you were showing me the other night?" he asked, trying to pinch the bridge of his nose and rub it.

"Here," Corbin started, his voice cracking. "Uh, here. Let me show you again." He moved to Liam's side, realizing with apprehension that they were alone in the pool now.

"You just need to pinch a little harder," he murmured, placing his wet fingers on Liam's nose and rubbing in small circles.

_Too bad Eli's not here, though. He'd probably love this._

Corbin looked into Liam's brown eyes, and thought about Eli comforting the winger during a sneezing fit.

 _I wonder what he'd do if I wanted to comfort Liam instead?_ Corbin mused, feeling the irrational urge to do something that would hurt Eli, after the center had given him the cold shoulder the last couple days.

"It's... uhhhh... wwuuuhh... workihh... working.... _Uhhhh-KISHHheeww! KiSCHH! Uh-KISSCHHH!_ "

Liam turned his head to sneeze into the crook of his arm, but lost his grip on the ladder with his other hand and started to dip under the water. "Hhhh... uhhh... _KISSHHHewww! Kisscshhh! Uh-KiiesshhhHHH!_ "

Instinctively, Corbin grabbed the winger to steady him, and with Liam sniffling and sneezing quietly, helplessly in Corbin's arms, the goalie felt a rush of arousal that seemed to snap his reality.

"G... guuhhh... _uuhh-KISSHHH!_ God, I'm sor... hhh! sorry... _KiieeSSSHHeeww!_ "

It was the apology that did it. The hitched, sneezy apology broke something in Corbin, and he enfolded Liam in his arms, pressing him close and kissing his neck.

"Cor, what... wuhh... _uhh-KISCHH!_ What are you doing?"

"Bless you," Corbin breathed, imagining what Eli would do if he walked in and found them.

Sniffling liquidly, Liam pulled back a little to stare at Corbin, but he let the goalie continue to hold him, their heads just above water in the deep end of the pool.

"Cor..." Liam started, then scrubbed his nose with the back of his wrist. It made soft little squishing sounds, like _snsshkkhh-snnssshhkk_. When Liam pulled his hand away, Corbin kissed his mouth, touching his tongue to Liam's and stroking it damply. Hearing Liam's sneezing fit had awakened the tickle in Corbin's own nose, and he sniffled wetly during the kiss, trying to hold back the sneezy sensation brought on by his cold.

_This is just to make Eli mad. It serves him right, for kissing me earlier. I bet he'd die if he knew I'm doing this with Liam._

Finally breaking the kiss, Corbin pressed Liam up against the tiled edge of the pool and positioned the winger almost in his lap, uncaring that he was hard and Liam couldn't help but notice. The tickle returned in full, and Corbin tilted his head, rubbing his nose against his bare shoulder as if to quell it. But it was Liam who sneezed, still helplessly trying to form a sentence.

"Hhh... _uhh-KISSchheeww!_ "C... uhhh... _uh-KISshh!_ Hhh! Hhhhh! _KISCHHHhhhew!_ Cor...."

Liam's breathing had quickened, and Corbin realized with both interest and disgust that his teammate was enjoying the kissing. Experimentally, Corbin ran a hand to Liam's stomach, then gripped his hips firmly. _What am I even doing? No, really, what the fuck am I doing? Punishing Eli?_

Corbin released a shaky breath and let Liam steady himself on the ladder once more.

"Cor..." Liam began.

"Shut up. I'm not a fag, okay?"

"Cor, I know..."

"I just... it's just been too long, that's all."

Liam brushed a damp lock of hair from his face. His nose was running, and he sniffled wetly, aware that the sound made Corbin twitch against him.

"Cor, I liked it." Liam whispered.

"What?"

"I... liked it," he repeated.

Corbin coughed quietly against the back of his hand, then winced from the pain. Liam moved closer to pull the goalie into a hug, concerned about the rasping sound of the cough. Cuddled in Liam's arms, Corbin felt his breath begin to hitch.

"Wait... a siihh... sec... I... ihhhh! _Heh-ISSHuuu! Hp'TSCHH! ISHH!_ God, I... there's one... ihh! mor... ihhh!! more... _Hep-TISCHuuu!!_ "

Although he had tried to turn away, much of the moist spray from Corbin's sneeze had landed across Liam's bare shoulders and arms, and some on his back. Corbin sniffled several times and swallowed with difficulty.

"Bless you," Liam murmured quietly.

Corbin shifted Liam in his lap, then let his hand wander down Liam's stomach. After a moment, he pulled his arm away in shock.

"...Liam? You... there's not... you don't have..." he stumbled, blinking at the winger.

"I... ugh, I didn't want to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Corbin asked, feeling that the whole situation had become surreal. He was floating in the deep end of a swimming pool with the best winger on the team pressed against him, sniffling.

"I'm trans. Transgender."

Corbin felt like someone had set the surrealist setting on fire.

"You're... a girl?"

"NO!" Liam almost shouted, then shifted in the water, pulling away from Corbin. "I'm not a girl. When I was born, the doctors decided I was a girl, but I knew really early on that I was a guy. I convinced my parents, and they helped me get medical attention so I could look like a guy, too. I... I'm on hormones and I had chest surgery. I just... haven't had bottom surgery yet."

Liam was blushing now, brown eyes shining with tears, anxiety written across his face as he looked from the pool water to Corbin's face and then back again.

"This is too weird." Corbin thought back to all of their practices, all of rumors about Liam having scandalous tattoos or dealing with leukemia. Was this why the winger chose to shower at home? Corbin had always just believed the rumor that Liam was tiny and self-conscious about his size.

"It _is_ weird," Liam agreed, his voice quavering. He looked at Corbin once more, taking steadying breaths. "But it doesn't change who I am." He paused. "Or how badly you wanted me a moment ago."

Corbin shuddered at being called out like that.

"Maybe I just knew there was something girly about you, and that's why I did it. Fucking queer," he retorted, feeling horrible as soon as he said the words. The two stared at each other for a long moment. At last, Liam spoke, his voice calm.

"I'm going back to the room." Liam climbed the ladder. Then he dried off in silence, wrapped his towel around him, and left.

Now alone, Corbin launched himself out of the pool, grabbed one of the plastic reclining chairs, and threw it into the deep end, growling something incomprehensible. The effort hurt his throat, and he crouched down, coughing into a fist for several minutes until he felt he might black out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's atypical for a trans guy to get top surgery in high school, but Liam's parents are wealthy, open-minded, and like to throw money at problems, so it's in-character for them to accept Liam's realization of being trans and then offer their support. For some back story, they started letting Liam bind in middle school, and also let him present as a boy and go by the name Liam. And then at the end of middle school, Liam begged them for hormones and top surgery, and they agreed. (I have some plot reasons for this that may come up in subsequent chapters.) The story takes place almost four years later, and Liam's scars would be much less prominent.
> 
> As a general note, though, most trans guys do not have the family support or money to do something like this, and would likely start hormones after high school and not have top surgery for years (if ever, given how expensive it is and how much gatekeeping is involved). There are hormone blockers to stop puberty from kicking in, but again, you have to have family support to be on board with that. I imagine Liam didn't discuss this with his parents until puberty had already started kicked in and it was pretty much too late (hence the top surgery).
> 
> I'm just including this information because it's very important to me that people have a helpful understanding of trans issues (in this case, trans guy issues), and I wanted to explain both what a common experience is for many trans guys but also give some background into why Liam's situation is different.


	10. Daytrip to Denali

In the span of three days, Corbin had managed to alienate his closest friends on the team. No one even wanted to sit next to him on the bus as the team prepared for a trip to Denali National Park. It was day four, and they had a rest before their games the following day. This particular trip had been branded non-optional, so Corbin had prepared himself for the misery by bringing his backpack with the book and some ear buds so he could listen to music on his iPod.

So far, there had been no sign of Eli. He had not been in the room when Corbin had returned the previous night, or when Corbin had woken up this morning. He wasn't on the bus, although Bry and Liam were, sitting together a few seats behind Corbin. Liam had given Corbin a hurt look on his way out of the shower, and Corbin had almost stopped to talk and maybe apologize, but Bry had been watching. Now, the two of them were deep in conversation about something, apparently.

Corbin turned the volume up to block out the team's chatter as he stared out the window at the side of the hotel.

He looked up at a movement near him. Eli had boarded the bus and had sat down next to Corbin, though as far away as he could get without falling off the seat. 

Before Corbin could ask, Eli hissed, "It was the only seat left."

The goalie scanned the bus and realized that Eli was right.

 _It's going to be a fun four hours_ , he thought as the bus pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Corbin managed to go the entire ride without saying anything to Eli, though he had stolen glances at him frequently. The center's nose was decidedly pink, eyes brighter than usual, still with dark circles beneath them. He seemed to be wearing three layers of clothes, including his favorite long-sleeved shirt, the one with holes for his thumbs. Several times during the long trip, Eli had brought his slender fingers to his nose and pinched it, closing his eyes and shuddering slightly. After the fourth or fifth time, Corbin realized the center was stifling sneezes. He reacted with a mixture of arousal and regret, once again remembering that it was his fault Eli now carried his cold—and his fault Eli felt so obviously hurt and lonely.

When they arrived, Eli exited the bus quickly and strode into the Visitor's Center as if he couldn't wait to get away from his seat mate.

Corbin wondered if Eli knew what had happened with Liam. He felt guilty for the encounter, then felt angry for feeling guilty, as if he owed any kind of fidelity to Eli, who he wasn't even dating. _Because I'm. Not. Gay._ he reiterated to himself. _Not gay._ He thought of what it had felt like to kiss Liam in the pool, the winger sneezing helplessly. _I must've subconsciously realized it. That Liam's not really a guy._ The thought gave him both comfort and anxiety.

 _Liam won't tell everyone about me, or I'll just tell everyone he's a girl,_ Corbin thought spitefully, though a tugging in his stomach revealed this dismissal for a lie. _But… if that's all I'm worried about, why do I keep seeing Eli's face, and thinking about how hurt he'd feel if he knew what happened in the pool?_

It had seemed like such a good idea in the moment, to do something with Liam that he knew would hurt Eli. But now, gazing over the tundra at Denali, Corbin felt ashamed.

After the rest of the team had filed off of the bus, Coach Kissel explained the day's schedule and the various activities at the Visitor's Center. Apparently, it was better to come during midsummer, when it wasn't so cold, but there was still a lot to see and many animals to observe.

The chaperones herded the group into a foyer with a guest book and dozens of nature pictures on the walls, before a tour guide appeared and began her spiel about the park. Corbin thought about putting his ear buds back in, but he was genuinely interested in the tour, so he settled for staying on the edge of the group.

Their first stop was a curved, dark room with carpeted risers and a large screen. The team filled out the rows and stayed somewhat quiet for a 20-minute video about the history of the park and the park rangers' current goals. Corbin found himself on the end next to Zander, which came as a great relief. All of the tension between him and his roommates had settled into his stomach, solid and queasy.

When the movie was over, the team exited into an interactive science display about migration patterns and Richter scales. Corbin let his curiosity get the better of him and actually explored the exhibits, reading the detailed plaques.

For most of the day, Corbin managed to forget what a mess he had made of things. Even his cough had subsided a bit, to his relief. The less attention he drew to himself, the better. 

Coach had signed them up for the daytrip tour, and they boarded the brown Denali bus, vying for window seats in the hopes of seeing animals as the bus pulled out of the parking lot and headed off into the park. 

They weren't disappointed, either. In addition to the many caribou herds crossing braided rivers and the dotting of Dall sheep on the cliff sides, the Blue Jays spotted a pack of wolves only an hour into the park. And, just after midday, on their way back from the Eilson Visitor Center deep inside the park, the bus driver had to pull over to let a grizzly bear cross with two cubs in tow. The bus hushed itself, and Corbin felt the uncommon silence of the hockey team like a palpable presence as they leaned their heads out the window and watched, some taking pictures with disposable cameras from the Visitor's Center.

Throughout the day, Corbin kept to himself, and even released a harsh set of sneezes on his way out of the bookshop. No one blessed him.


	11. Bus Ride to Anchorage

The Blue Jays left Denali National Park at dusk. Corbin shivered as he waited in line to board the bus, wishing he had thought to layer more since he hadn't brought a winter coat. Not that he even owned a winter coat.

The last one on, Corbin found himself forced to sit next to Liam, who pointedly looked out the window. _Great. Another long four hours._ But when he went to put in his ear buds, Corbin found his iPod battery had died. He leaned forward and rested his head against the seat in front of him, sighing. One seat behind, Eli coughed quietly, and Corbin lifted his head fractionally, then leaned against the seat once more. He stayed that way for nearly an hour, intentionally swallowing in order to feel the lingering pain in his throat.

"You... okay?" Liam murmured in the dark. The bus had found the main road back to Anchorage, and the eerie incandescent street lights shone dull and coppery, intermittent, over Liam's face.

"I..." Corbin began. Liam's concern for him, even after everything, made Corbin feel even worse, and he found himself starting to cry. He took in several deep breaths and fought back the tears, grateful for the dark.

"I'm sorry," he finished.

"...For?" Liam prompted, still stinging from Corbin's hateful words.

"For saying mean things about you. I... I don't know anything about any of that. I just know I'm not gay, okay?" Corbin's voice was barely audible, and Liam had to move a bit closer to hear.

"What you said really hurt me, Corbin. I'm not a girl, and even though I know this is sudden and new to you, you had no right to treat me like that," Liam explained, keeping his voice low but assertive.

Corbin fought the urge to get defensive and instead took several more deep breaths. "You're right. I fucked up. I don't understand any of this, and I'm... I'm scared." He winced at the admission. "But that's no reason to treat you like shit."

"I accept your apology," Liam answered. He paused, looking out at the lights as they swept by. "But... you... liked touching me?" Liam asked at last, trying to sort through Corbin's confusing statements.

"...Yes," Corbin admitted.

"And not because you think I'm a girl?"

"No, I...."

"You want to touch me again, don't you?" Liam challenged, finding satisfaction in having control over Corbin.

Corbin sniffled involuntarily and shivered, wrestling with desire and guilt. The light played over Liam's cheek and Corbin found himself wanting to kiss the winger again, harder this time, rougher this time, to mark him.

"You look cold," Liam added. "I have an extra hoodie in my bag," he said, reaching into the backpack and pulling out the thick cotton garment. 

He half-handed it to Corbin, letting it partially fall over himself, too, hiding their laps from view. Corbin inhaled, finding himself aroused by Liam's scent on the hoodie: a little bit of sweat mixed with that Axe Body Spray.

"Thanks, man," Corbin whispered, then let his hand rest on the seat between them.

Liam sighed, frustrated with himself for giving Corbin such a pass after everything. _What do I want? To rake him over the coals and rub in how shitty his comments were? Do I want to educate him about trans people? Would he even listen? Or do I just want him to kiss me again? Ugh, fuck everything._

Liam moved his hand over, found Corbin's fingers, and touched them hesitantly. When Corbin did not pull away, Liam began to warm the goalie's hand, massaging the fingertips and pads of the palm.

Corbin felt his arousal grow, and he froze, wondering what he was getting himself into. He was not at all certain that he could manage an encounter like this quietly, even with the loud engine of the bus and some conversation between his other teammates. But he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Surrendering, Corbin toyed with Liam's fingers, unsure what to do, despite having a fair amount of experience holding hands with girls. Realizing he was treating the interaction with Liam differently than he would with a girl made Corbin tense a little. _I'm... holding a guy's hand,_ he thought. _I'm holding a guy's hand. And I like it. Holy fuck._

After awhile, Liam moved his hand to Corbin's thigh, just resting it there. Behind them, Eli coughed again, raspy yet hushed, then made a soft sound that might've been a sneeze. The thought of Eli half-stifling a sneeze just behind him caused Corbin to shiver again, and Liam surreptitiously moved closer, letting their hips touch under the hoodie. 

An hour out from Anchorage, Liam sneezed quietly, a wet-sounding triple. There had been little warning, but Corbin felt the winger's touch pause as his breath hitched, until: " _Uhhh-KISCHT'hh! Kisshht'h! Uhh-KISCHT'heww!_ " Liam buried his face in the crook of his right arm while keeping his left hand on Corbin, then sniffled several times in quick succession. His sneezes sounded different than before: deeper, wetter, with more consonants. Corbin bit down on his lip so hard, he tasted blood.

Instinctively, Liam moved his fingers to unbutton Corbin's jeans and slid his hand inside. Eyes wide and fairly panicked, Corbin shifted his hips, as if trying to pull away.

"Don't you want it?" Liam murmured.

"No," Corbin started, then amended, "Yes, I mean, yes, I do, but not... here...."

Liam sniffled wetly, once, twice, then a third time, and Corbin felt himself move beneath the winger's hand.

"Then where?" Liam asked simply.

Corbin's mind raced. _Where? Where would we possibly have any privacy to take this further?_

He ran through the possibilities and discarded them in turn: the hotel room, the shower, the nook behind the vending machine in the hallway, the parking lot, the locker room....

Finally, his mind alighted on the single-person bathroom he had discovered at the Sullivan Arena, where he had punched the concrete after Eli kissed him.

The memory sent a wave of pain through him, but most of his brain wasn't working properly, not with Liam's hand on him.

"I know a place," he mumbled. "Tomorrow, after the game."

"Okay then," Liam said, and rested his hand on the seat between them.

Gritting his teeth, Corbin resisted the urge to move Liam's hand back, and instead focused on breathing deeply and keeping his thoughts elsewhere.


	12. Looking for Trouble

Corbin had made whispered plans with Liam to meet him in the secluded bathroom after their game against the Lansing Spartans, but as he examined his goalie stick after warm-ups, checking his tape job, he wished he had decided to rendezvous with Liam before the game. The nervousness and lust was killing his concentration, and he needed to be on top of things.

Gliding out onto the ice at the start of the game, Corbin glanced at Eli and felt a knot of anxiety settle in his stomach once more. Eli's normally bright green eyes were tired and his nose was red-rimmed. It glistened a bit around the tip, as if it was in a constantly runny state. Eli skated lethargically, and Corbin wondered why Coach hadn't benched him.

From the Blue Jays' first face-off win to the final buzzer, the game raced by, with Corbin relieved to find he could put everything else to the side and just get in the zone. The Blue Jays won in a shut-out, 2-0, trouncing the Spartans and advancing on to the final Championship match-up: The Anchorage North Stars. It was fitting that the North Stars made it all the way to the Championship, but it meant they had the home-ice advantage. Still, the Blue Jays had played well, and they were ready. Several teammates congratulated Corbin on the shut-out.

He _had_ made several great saves, and the attention wasn't undeserved, but guilt over giving Eli his cold and fear over his upcoming meeting with Liam made Corbin want to slink away. At one point, after he had showered and dressed back in jeans and a t-shirt, Corbin looked around and realized Liam was gone.

 _Okay, then. Fuck, this is it._

Quietly, Corbin gathered his gear together and left it on the bench before ducking out of the locker room and heading through the Sullivan Arena to the meet-up point.

Liam was already inside the bathroom, leaning against a wall, his hair still wet and sticking up at odd angles. Corbin locked the bathroom door and turned to stare at the winger. The dingy overhead light left the room in shadows, but Corbin could still make out the shape of the letters on Liam's Opeth shirt. He took a step closer, then paused.

"Are you sure... you want to do this?" Liam asked, bending his knee a little and frowning at the residual pain from a hard check earlier.

"No," Corbin answered, then took two steps to Liam and pinned him against the wall, kissing him fiercely. The goalie kept Liam immobilized, his hands on either shoulder, and bit his way from the winger's ear to his throat.

Trying to catch his breath, he continued, "I don't know anything, but—" Corbin interrupted himself with a soft series of coughs, gentler than the ones before. "Sorry— fuck, I'm still getting over this cold."

Liam tried to move his arm, to bring a hand to Corbin's forehead and feel it, but Corbin still had him pressed against the wall.

"Fuck, I kissed you," Corbin stated, staring at Liam.

Laughing, Liam raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you did. You did the day before yesterday, too, remember? In the pool? Or was it that forgettable?"

A flush crept over Corbin's cheeks. "No, it wasn't forget-... I mean, I remember... I just..." he stammered. "I'm contagious still, I think," he said finally.

"I know," Liam replied.

"You don't care?"

"I think I'm already coming down with your cold, actually," Liam explained, scrunching his nose a little. "My nose feels tickly, and the back of my throat hurts a bit." He thought back to Corbin's reaction in the pool, and then on the bus back from Denali. "You like it, don't you?" he asked.

Corbin closed the space between them, leaning against Liam. "I don't know what you're talking about," he whispered. His arousal was obvious, pressed so close, and he rubbed his hips against Liam.

"Oh, okay then," the winger answered, then nuzzled his nose against Corbin's ear and gave an intentional, damp sniffle.

Corbin's reaction was immediate: he bit down sharply on Liam's neck, enough to make his team mate gasp, though with pain or pleasure, Corbin couldn't tell.

"If that's what you do when you don't care, then I wonder what would happen if I sneezed?" Liam asked, his voice barely a whisper. In response, Corbin moaned against Liam's neck, then ran his hands down the winger's arms and twined his fingers with Liam's, bringing their hands up and holding him against the wall more effectively.

Liam's dark blond hair fell into his face, and Corbin rubbed his cheek against the strands, then pulled back just enough to stare at Liam.

"I... I don't understand any of this. All I know is that if you... I mean... I don't think... I could hold... back... if you...." Corbin fumbled his way through the sentence, unable to finish it.

"If I...?" Liam prompted.

Answering without words, Corbin kissed Liam's nose, then touched the tip of it with his tongue, licking at the sensitive underside while keeping the winger's hands pinned to the painted concrete.

Already battling a growing tickle, Liam fluttered his eyes closed and felt the familiar hitching begin.

"Hhhh! Uhhhh… Uhhh! _Uhp-KIISCHT'hhh! Iyyyshhhh! Uhh-KISSHT'hheeww!_

Corbin pulled back just in time to feel the first one dampen his face, but then he nuzzled close to Liam and bit him once more, sinking his teeth into Liam's soft skin and letting the winger's cold-induced sneezes mist his neck and shoulder. Groaning, Corbin relaxed his grip on Liam's fingers for a moment, and Liam took the opportunity to pull his hands free and embrace the goalie, holding him tightly.

"Bless... you..." Corbin managed.


	13. Crossing the Line

Liam lifted up the hem of Corbin's shirt and toyed with the edge of his jeans, then unbuttoned them and slid his hand inside. When he found Corbin's hard cock, he wrapped his hand around it and squeezed, then ran the tip of his nose along the edge of Corbin's ear, leaving a wet trail and sniffling several times.

"Please," Corbin whimpered.

"Please what?" Liam asked, his voice low.

"Please... use... your mouth...."

Immediately, Liam dropped to his knees and pulled down Corbin's jeans and boxers. He looked from Corbin's cock to his face, then back again.

"As you wish," he murmured, then touched his nose to the tip of the goalie's cock, feeling the warmth and slight stickiness. Corbin had just showered after the game, and smelled of body wash and the musk of his desire. Experimentally, Liam lapped at the dampness there and marveled at how the action made Corbin tremble.

Corbin brought a hand up under his shirt to caress one of his nipples, his breath coming out in a shallow panting.

Once Liam had licked his way from the tip to the base and back again, he slowly took Corbin's cock into his mouth and began to suckle, drawing his tongue along the underside and making slow movements to bring as much of it into his mouth as possible.

Between all the teasing of the last few days and how long it had been since Corbin had satisfied himself, Liam's slow sucking brought him close to the edge in mere moments, and he scrambled a little, suddenly nervous about letting go.

"Liam," he began, his voice shaking, "I'm getting close."

The winger responded with a moan, its meaning evident. After a few more seconds, however, Liam paused and withdrew. Corbin opened his eyes, about to ask his teammate if he was okay, when he saw the expression playing across Liam's features.

"Uhh! Uhhhhh!! _UhhKISSSHT'hheewww!_ "

Corbin slid his fingers into Liam's hair and gripped tightly, causing the winger a shock of pain that resulted in a moan. His first sneeze sprayed across Corbin's cock, and the goalie wondered if Liam was going to remain in that position, but to his surprise, Liam took Corbin's cock back into his mouth, despite his hitching breaths.

"Uhhhh! _Uhhp-KISSSSSHT'mmph! Hep-KISSSsshhht'mphh!!_ "

Somehow, Liam managed to sneeze with Corbin's cock deep inside his mouth, careful with his teeth. The sensation of the sneezes, paired with Liam's wet sniffles afterward and insistent sucking pushed Corbin past any ability to hold back. He moaned, biting down on his lip in an effort to keep quiet, and filled Liam's mouth with his thick cum.

Liam waited until Corbin had spent himself, then pressed his face to the goalie's hip for a long moment before standing and walking over to the bathroom sink. He spat into the sink and washed it down the drain, then turned to Corbin with a playful smile.

"Sorry, I don't swallow."

"...God," Corbin breathed, realizing he was a bit shaky from the encounter. "Fuck, Liam. Where did you learn to suck cock like that?"

"Does it matter, if I get to make you feel like this?" Liam asked, turning on the faucet once more to rinse out his mouth.

"Don't you... want something?" Corbin asked, suddenly conscious that they had focused entirely on his own arousal.

Liam took the few steps to Corbin's side and kissed his neck. "Bite me again?" he asked. "Harder this time?"

Obliging, Corbin took the skin of Liam's neck between his teeth and bit down hard, until he heard Liam moan.

"Mm... more?" Liam pleaded.

Corbin felt himself aroused all over again at Liam's vulnerability, at the whimpering request, and he tugged at the winger's jeans, unbuttoning them swiftly and thrusting his hand inside as Liam had just done to him minutes before.

"Beg me," Corbin commanded, impulsively.

Liam arched his back at the words and pressed himself into Corbin's hand. Corbin felt the slick wetness and slid a finger to the damp opening, grazing Liam's clit.

"Not... there..." Liam panted, gently repositioning Corbin's hand to cup his ass, trying to redirect the goalie and stave off dysphoria. The feel of Corbin's hand gripping him left Liam lightheaded, and he added, "Please, Corbin... please bite me?"

Corbin squeezed the soft flesh of Liam's ass, kneading it, then found the curve of Liam's neck and bit into it sharply, applying steady pressure as he felt Liam shaking against him in climax.

At last, Liam moved away, and Corbin caught a closer look at the winger's neck.

"Holy fuck, Liam! Fuck, I left a fucking mark!"

"That's... the point..." Liam breathed, adding a surreptitious sniffle at the end.

"No, that's not the point. The point is not to get caught. Exactly how long do you think it's going to take for Eli and Bry to notice you've got fucking bite marks all over your neck?" Corbin asked, pulling his hand out of Liam's jeans and reaching for a paper towel to clean himself up, realizing he was still dripping from earlier.

"Easy," Liam cautioned. "I'm not going to tell them it was you, if that's what you mean."

Corbin tossed the paper towel into the trash can and reached for another one, wetting it under the faucet. "Brilliant. At least we're on the same page about that. But what are you going to say?"

"I could say nothing. It's not like people's first guess is going to be you."

 _Eli's might be,_ Corbin thought, remembering the scene in the hotel room with Liam sneezing after his swim.

"Look, what if we said we met some girls?" Corbin suggested. "You know, fans or something? We were checking out the arena, and they came up to us, and, you know. You got one and I got one, and, uh, we messed around, and, well, yours just left marks and mine didn't?"

"I could give you some marks to match," Liam offered, his voice suggestive.

Corbin realized his cock was still slightly hard and had actually throbbed in reaction.

"Let's just stick with the story that mine didn't leave any marks. Besides, even with this excuse, Coach is still going to be really, really angry. Do you want to get us benched for the Championship game?"

Liam thought about that, then grabbed a paper towel and quietly blew his nose. Afterward, he sniffled several times, still sounding congested.

"I think I really am catching your cold," he said.

Corbin zipped up and buttoned his jeans, then enfolded Liam in his arms, taking a closer look at the marks.

"Maybe we can say I wasn't actually with you, and don't know where you were," Corbin amended.

"Alright, I'm game," Liam replied. "But we really should get back. We've been gone a long time."

Corbin washed his hands, then glanced at the wall where he had punched the concrete a few days before, after Eli's kiss.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_


	14. Realizations

Corbin and Liam agreed to return separately to the locker room to get their belongings, so as not to cause suspicion. Corbin returned first, and, about five minutes later, Liam appeared, phone cradled to his ear, feigning a conversation with a parent, although no one paid him any mind. Two of the wingers were standing on benches in the locker room and using their hockey sticks like gladiators, trying to knock each other off, while the rest of the team cheered them on.

Only Eli ignored the mock-brawl, his eyes shifting from Corbin to Liam as the center chatted away, then hung up his phone and rifled through his backpack.

Eli turned, coughing into the crook of his arm, then frowned as Corbin and Liam exchanged anxious looks, then immediately looked away.

* * *

Back in the hotel room, Bry and Corbin talked strategy for their game the next day with the Anchorage North Stars, while Liam stared out the window at the parking lot below. Eli doodled on the hotel notepad by the phone, writing chord progressions and tuning out the conversation. Too much strat talk gave him anxiety, and he still had a headache from the cold.

_Corbin's cold. Corbin's cold that I have now. It's his germs in me, making my nose tickle like this. God, I wish I could sneeze right now._

Eli scrunched his nose at the thought, tired of having to hold back the sneezes, tired of having to hold back his feelings for the goalie.

 _And what is with Corbin and Liam? First the other night with the sneezing, and now these weird looks._

Eli watched as Corbin glanced over at Liam, who still stood at the window, and then turned his attention back to Bry, who was gesturing in the air, drawing a play.

After a few minutes, Eli put down the notepad and joined Liam at the window, his elbow almost touching the winger. Liam turned and gave Eli a wide smile.

"Wouldn't it be gorgeous here over Christmas? Like, seriously, imagine this whole city lit up with Christmas lights, and decorations, and, like, snow. Real snow. Pretty snow. Blanketing everything. And caroling and hot chocolate. It'd actually get cold enough for hot chocolate here," Liam pointed out excitedly, punctuating the statement with a pair of sniffles.

Eli suppressed a shiver of desire and took a closer look at the winger. Liam's brown eyes looked a bit glassy, and his nose was definitely pink. A bit of dampness showed around the edges of his nose, and he sniffled once more.

"Liam, are you... getting sick?" Eli asked quietly, not wanting Bry to hear and freak out.

"Maybe, I dunno. Prolly from Corbin," Liam replied, scrubbing his nose with the back of his wrist. "First you, and now me, and... what?" Liam stopped in mid-sentence as Eli's expression changed.

"What happened to your neck?"

"What? Oh, um, that?" Liam hedged.

"Yeah, those bite marks."

"Oh, uh, see, there was this girl, you know, um, remember that one girl? The one, um, from the pool? Uhh... um, the one Bry liked. Well, um, don't tell him, but she was at the rink today, and, um, I ran into her after the game, and, I guess she likes me? She was hot, you know? And I think she saw the game. Anyway, we, uh, made out and stuff."

 _And stuff?_ Eli thought, looking at the shape of the teeth marks on Liam's skin.

"Lucky you," Eli replied, looking over at Bry and Corbin. Corbin was watching them, anxiety all over his face.

"Yeah, she was great. Too bad we didn't have time to do more." Liam grinned, then crinkled his nose. "Ah, geez, Eli, I'm... uhh! gonna... hhh! _Uuhh-KISHHHT'hh! Uhhh-KIISHHT'hheww! KISSHT'hhew!_ "

The winger brought his arm up to his face, burying his nose against the fabric of his shirt and soaking it with the trio of sneezes, although some of the spray managed to catch Eli's arm.

_Corbin's germs, too. God, that's so hot. Liam and I both sick, both sniffly, but he gets to sneeze without having to worry, and I have to hold them back because Corbin is an asshole._

Eli looked back at Corbin to find the goalie... blushing?

Suddenly, the pieces aligned. Corbin helping Liam sneeze. Corbin's erection afterward. Corbin going with Liam to the pool. Corbin ignoring Eli. Corbin and Liam disappearing at the same time earlier. Corbin unable to stop looking at Liam. Liam's bite marks.

 _From Corbin. Those are Corbin's teeth marks all over Liam's neck._

The realization made Eli dizzy, and he reached for the windowsill, holding onto it to steady himself.

"Hey, you okay?" Liam asked. "You're still getting over being sick; maybe you should sit down or something."

The winger reached out as if to touch Eli's arm, but Eli twisted away, turning and leaving the room abruptly.

Once he was in the hallway, Eli paused, trying to breathe deeply.

_Corbin's teeth marks. Corbin bit him. Corbin wants him. Not me._

The tightness in his face suddenly broke, and Eli began crying, now moving down the hallway blindly, heading for a side staircase.


	15. Championship and Confrontation

Eli stared at the scuffed metal of the locker, replaying the Championship Game in his head.

He had not spoken to Liam or Corbin, and had spent most of the night lying awake with intense nausea from a slow-burning anxiety attack. The game had started out well, with an early goal against the North Stars, but the rest of the first period had been a scramble with the Anchorage home team out-shooting the Blue Jays more than two to one. Back in the locker room, Corbin had chewed out the defensemen, and the team had started the second period with a definite air of mistrust and antagonism. The North Stars, by contrast, scored back to back goals to pull ahead by the end of the second. And then, in the third period, Eli managed to get his stick caught up in a North Star player's skates and earned himself a tripping penalty. The North Stars scored in the ensuing power play, and, in an uncharacteristic move, Eli broke his stick in half against the side of the penalty box.

The final score was 6-2, a crushing defeat in the last game of the National Youth Hockey Championship. Although Coach tried to deliver the "we gave it our all" speech, a mood of frustration and depression settled over the team. The locker room was oddly quiet as they peeled off their gear, showered, and dressed in street clothes.

Eli couldn't help wondering what would've happened if Corbin had never gotten sick.

 _I wouldn't have been distracted with these feelings for him. He wouldn't have played so badly, and he wouldn't have gotten me and Liam sick and made us play badly, too. Maybe Bry would've even been in a better mood. Maybe Corbin wouldn't have gone after Liam, and maybe I wouldn't feel like shit right now._

A tickle teased at Eli's nose, and he pinched his thumb and forefinger over the bridge and stifled two sneezes in complete silence. It hurt to stifle them. It hurt to sneeze at all, knowing it was Corbin who caused it.

_At least we go home tomorrow._

* * *

The flight from Anchorage to Seattle was packed, but the plane was nearly empty during the second leg from Seattle to San Antonio, and the team spread out, with most of the players getting a row to themselves. Eli sat at a window seat, watching the thick clouds far below and wondering if he could survive two more months before graduation and the chance to escape.

Liam sat one row in front, leaning against the window and sniffling every few seconds. The sound made Eli want to snap the tray table off of the seat.

When the chlorine had triggered Liam's allergies, Eli had watched with white-hot arousal, desperately trying to think of a way to touch himself while the winger sneezed helplessly. But now Corbin had spurned Eli, called him names, and acted like he was invisible, and then hooked up with Liam.

Every sniffle reminded Eli of the blush on Corbin's cheeks when Liam had sneezed at the hotel window. Eli gritted his teeth and wished, yet again, that he had not forgotten to charge his iPod. It peeked out of his pocket, completely dead, and he tried to think of some acceptable excuse for switching to the other end of the plane.

 _Fuck, I don't even care. I just need to go._

Gathering up his things, Eli walked down the aisle until he found an empty row. He settled in, shoving his backpack under the seat in front of him, and then pulled on his hoodie. After a few minutes of staring at the seat in front of him, he turned to see Corbin returning from the bathroom. The goalie paused at Eli's row, started to leave, and then ducked under the overhead bins and sat down in the middle seat, next to Eli.

"Hey."

"I don't really have anything to say to you," Eli stated, hoping to pre-empt a discussion. Thirty-thousand feet in the air wasn't his ideal place for some sort of heart-to-heart.

"What is your deal?" Corbin hissed. "You're the one who came on to me, and what, because I'm not gay, suddenly you don't want to talk to me at all? Like we're fucking strangers? Eli, what the fuck is your problem?"

"Not gay for me, you mean," Eli corrected him, keeping his voice low. "But gay for Liam, though."

Corbin paled visibly, his heart rate accelerating so fast he thought for a moment he was going to pass out. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the bite marks. On Liam's neck. I'm not stupid, Cor. I know they're yours. After the way you were teasing him the other night, and then you went to the pool with him, and then you two disappeared together after the game and he comes back with bite marks?"

"No, see, there was this girl, and—"

"Just save it, Cor. Why don't you try being honest with me? I can take it. Just tell me it's me. You're not into me; you're into him."

Eli could feel that familiar pressure at his eyes, but he took several slow breaths and blinked rapidly.

"You know what? Fuck you. I'm. Not. Gay. I'm not gay. Not for you, not for him. And I wouldn't do you anyway because you're a neurotic asshole." Corbin hissed the last phrase while rising and walking away.

Stunned, Eli stared at the empty seat, then hurriedly pulled his hood over his head and hid his face from view as the tears flooded his face.


	16. A Rose by Any Other Name

Carly. Jasmine. Alejandra. Brittney. Emma.

Eli had lost track after Emma. There had been two more after Emma but before Luciana. Who was still the current one, as far as Eli knew.

He had not wanted to chronicle Corbin's parade of girlfriends, but the goalie made it a little hard not to, making out with them before class, after school, in the parking lot leaned up against his Volvo.

Alejandra, who had AP Government with Eli, had even asked him if he knew whether Corbin was going to ask her to senior prom. His first reaction had been to laugh, both at her question and at the assumption that Corbin shared anything with Eli, but he had fought it down and turned it into a cough before pleading ignorance.

Senior Prom.

Eli had never planned to attend. Expensive tickets, uncomfortable clothes, loud music, crowds. All this pressure to have fun and hook up and make it an unforgettable memory.

Now that hockey season was over, Eli thankfully had little contact with Liam or Corbin, outside of a couple shared classes, but he assumed they were both going, though not with each other. Bry was taking his girlfriend, Araceli.

_Just one more month._

Prom was all anyone talked about, to the point that Eli wanted to skip school until after the whole affair was over. Lauren, some saxophone player in the marching band, ended up being Corbin's date. Eli watched her talking excitedly the day before Prom and suppressed the urge to warn her.

_And just what would I say? Sorry, Lauren, your date is gay or maybe bi? Your date has the hots for Liam? Just wanted to let you know?_

When Lauren told her friends about the limo Corbin was getting for them, Eli excused himself from class and holed himself up in the bathroom for the rest of the period. He tried to distract himself by thinking about fun things to do over the summer, but when he kept picturing Corbin, he gave up and splashed cold water on his face and arms.

* * *

As Eli got home from school, he let himself in with his key and headed to the kitchen to fix a snack. Now that hockey season was over, he could eat whatever he wanted, but he still stuck to apple slices with peanut butter, his favorite standby.

Like he had every day for the last couple years, he headed back out the front walk and grabbed the mail. Eli sorted through it, shuffling through bills and advertisements until he found a large envelope with a return address from the University of Alaska at Anchorage. Nearly choking on the piece of apple he had been eating, he raced back inside and dropped the rest of the mail on the table.

He stared at the envelope, stunned. In all of the turmoil over the Youth Nationals and the pain of Corbin's rejection, Eli had completely forgotten their pact.

҉ ҉ ҉

_"We should move to Alaska," Liam stated, tightening the laces on his skates._

_"You are so random," Corbin remarked. He was examining his goalie mask, turning it over in his hands before practice._

_"No, really. I looked it up. UAA has a pretty good acceptance rate. Their hockey team is the Seawolves, you know? It's not like UTSA has a hockey team." Liam replied._

_"UT Austin does," Eli interjected. "Sort of. They're... club hockey. ACHA Division II," he added, grinning._

_"The Seawolves are NCAA Division I," Liam countered, holding his stick in place and carefully wrapping it with tape._

_"Which means none of us are getting on that team," Corbin pointed out. "No offense."_

_"So we don't play for them. But legit, wouldn't it be awesome to live in Alaska, go to their games, play for fun on the side, see snow, and...." Here Liam paused, dramatically, dropping the stick tape and letting it dangle so he could gesture. "Get away from our parents? I mean, think about it. If we stay here in San Antonio for college, we'll be living at home. You know there's no way they'll let us live in the dorms when we could just live at home and save money. And Eli, even if you do get into UT Austin, that's only like... an hour and a half away. You'll be expected to come home every weekend."_

_"Fuck that," Eli muttered._

_"So, let's do it? Let's all apply to UAA?" Liam asked._

_"Do they even have a good program for what you want to study?" Eli questioned, leaning over and bending his elbow to begin his pre-game stretches._

_"I haven't figured out what I want to be when I grow up," Liam quipped, sticking out his tongue playfully. "And you're doing psych, right? You could do that anywhere, since you're gonna go on for your master's at some point anyway."_

_"What about you, Cor?" Eli asked, realizing suddenly he wanted the goalie's answer to be yes._

_"Fuck if I know. But getting away sounds fucking wonderful. I'm in."_

_"Okay, then," Liam summed up. "Now to break the news to our parents."_

҉ ҉ ҉

Liam's parents had been supportive of his decision to attend UAA, which didn't surprise Eli. The winger's parents took a fairly hands-off approach, but seemed to step up when the situation called for it. Corbin hadn't supplied any details about his conversation with his dad, who he lived with after his parents divorced, but the verdict was a go. Eli suspected his mom and step-dad were happy about the chance to ship him off; they had agreed so readily that he hadn't even needed to pull out his list of reasons to convince them.

But all of that had happened back over the first few months of the new year, long before their trip to Anchorage and Corbin's sneezy, contagious cold.

"Fuck," Eli muttered, overcome with too much disbelief to back up the expletive with any force. He thought back on the weeks since their return, and wondered why he hadn't managed to remember something as important as their plan to all attend college together in Alaska.

"Because I'm a fuck-up," he answered himself. Or because thinking about Corbin or Liam at all was like pressing his fingers to the edge of a bruise: he shied away, wary of the pain.

Eli carefully opened the envelope, withdrew the papers inside, and read aloud.

"Dear Mr. Rosenberg, blah blah blah, you have been accepted..." Eli paused, reading the rest of the letter silently.

"Well... Alaska is a big state. Maybe I'll... transfer to Fairbanks after my first year. Or, uh, drop out and play my guitar on street corners for spare change."


	17. Unpolished Jade

Liam stumbled into the dimly-lit bathroom at the Prom's venue for the fourth or fifth time and braced himself against the cold, white sink. He wore a black suit with a light blue vest and matching tie over a white button-up shirt, and his longish blonde hair brushed the collar. His brown eyes were damp and closed as his chest rose and fell with urgent little gasps.

"Uhh! Hhh! Hhhhhh! _Uhhh-KISHHhhh! KIEESSCHHHewww!_ Uhh… uhhhhh! Uh! _Uhhhhh-KISCHHEWW!_ "

The first sneeze sprayed the mirror above the sink, dozens of little droplets clinging to the reflective surface and glimmering in the incandescent light. Liam turned his head to the side, aiming the other two toward the ground.

"Ughh," Liam groaned, sniffing wetly and reaching for a paper towel.

From the corner of the bathroom, a voice spoke quietly.

"Bless you."

Liam whirled around, paper towel still clutched to his nose, then sighed as he saw Corbin, who was sitting on an upholstered backless loveseat.

"Dude, whad are you doig here?"

"Hiding." Corbin grimaced.

"Frob Laured?"

"I don't know. What are you doing in here?" the goalie asked.

"Hidig," Liam echoed, his voice distinctly stuffy.

"From?"

"Thad fuckig fog frob thad fuckig fog bachid," he answered. "It's killig by allergies, ahd dey're pumpig id all through deh dahble area ahd deh dahce floor. I dow id's 'A Walk id deh Clouds' or suhb fuckig bullshid like dahd, bud hohdestly, I cad't breahde." Liam punctuated this with an attempt at another sniffle, which this time came out more like a half-stifled snort.

Corbin watched him, hazel eyes shiny. "That sucks," he managed.

Liam threw away the sodden paper towel and took a few steps toward Corbin. "Cor, are you okay? You soud..." he trailed off.

"Drunk," Corbin supplied, grinning widely. He slid a metal flask from an interior pocket of his tux and offered it to Liam. "It's good stuff. You'd like it."

"Cor, if ahdy of deh adulds see you like dis, dey're goig to dow suhbthig's up, ahd you're goig to ged in a lod of drouble," Liam began, sighing.

"You know what jade looks like, right?" Corbin asked.

Liam grabbed a few more paper towels, then came to sit next to Corbin. Their knees touched, and Liam sniffled a few times. "God, I cahd shake dis sdeezy feelig."

A look of pain flitted across Corbin's face, and he unscrewed the top of the flask and took a swig. "Jade," he repeated.

"Yeah," Liam replied, confused. "Ihd's a gr... uhh...! _Uhhp-Kischhmmph! Kiiiisssmmph! Uhh-KIISHHmmphh!_ " He made a concerted effort to quiet the sneezes, burying his face into the paper towels and drenching them with the spray. When he was sure he was done sneezing, for the moment, he lifted his face. His nose glistened with dampness, and he blew his nose messily into the paper towels, then crumpled them in his fist. "Jade. It's a green color," he finished, his voice much closer to normal after the messy sneezes and the blow had cleared out his nose.

"Bless you," Corbin said again, not looking at Liam.

"Thanks."

"Yes, green. On the outside and the inside. You know how you can polish it? But then on the inside, it's like... lighter?"

"Cor, are you okay? You're starting to sound high, not drunk," Liam commented.

"That green. That green that's on the inside. That's the color."

"Of what?" Liam asked, confused.

"Of Eli's eyes."

Liam shifted on the upholstery and gave Corbin a direct, searching look. "Of Eli's eyes?"

"Yes." Corbin waved the flask at Liam. "That's the color. And when he's trying not to cry, the color turns lighter, like the inside of that glacier we saw in Alaska. Cold and wet and beautiful."

Quiet settled over the bathroom, interrupted only by Liam's frequent sniffling.

"That... explains a lot," Liam finally said.

"Yeah, I'm good at explaining," Corbin agreed, nodding. 

"You're good at hockey. And at getting drunk in the bathroom at Prom," Liam answered. "But you're maybe not-so-good at telling people how you feel about them."

"What do you mean?"

"Cor... you know that color? The color of unpolished jade? The color of Eli's eyes? That's beautiful?"

"Yes, it's beautiful."

"Have you... told Eli you think it's beautiful?"

Corbin twisted his mouth and stared at the flask in his hands.


	18. Like Me in the Sunshine

Graduation passed with its share of fanfare, and Eli politely declined invitations to half a dozen parties marking the end of high school. It was already nearly July, and he'd spent the beginnings of summer writing music locked away in his room. That night, a Saturday, his mother was out with friends and his step-father was on a business trip, and he had been messing around on his guitar for hours, alone in his bedroom.

Heavy black curtains blocked the streetlights beyond the window and hung all the way to the floor. A cherry wood desk occupied part of the wall, opposite a double bed with a cherry wood headboard and accompanying built-in shelves. The bed itself could barely be seen under piles of various clothing, notebooks, food wrappers, and crumpled up balls of paper. A matching dresser stood between the bed and a walk-in closet, where clothing spilled out across the floor. 

A black-and-white poster hung over the bed, with the outline of an acoustic guitar. The inside was filled with complex Celtic knot work arranged around the soundhole. White Christmas lights looped around the room, fixed at the point where the walls met the ceiling. A bedside lamp with a black lampshade cast a warmer glow on the room, complementing the whiter holiday lights. Grey carpet peeked out from beneath more wrinkled clothing, folders, and bits of trash.

In one corner, Eli sat on a stool, holding an acoustic guitar, a capo clipped to the headstock. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed up his forearms and a pair of dark blue jeans over black boots. The heel of his right boot hooked itself over a rung of the stool, and he balanced the guitar on his thigh, the fingers of his left hand forming an E-flat chord.

He tested a chord progression of E-flat to B-flat to F-sharp, then frowned and opened his eyes to study the strings contemplatively.

"Almost...."

A sudden, random tickle consumed his attention, and he dropped the guitar pick in his right hand in order to cup his fingers over his nose and mouth.

"Ahh... _Ahhesshho! Ahheiiishoo!_ ...Mmph."

The ensuing wetness covered his palm and slid between his fingers, and he stood, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand and setting his guitar on the bed so he could search for a Kleenex. After a few moments of looking, he finally found a box on the floor, and he plucked a tissue and wiped off his hand.

A distant ringing sounded from somewhere on the bed, and Eli began digging through the t-shirts, homework assignments, and empty bags of chips. After the third ring, he triumphantly produced his cell phone, but the pleased expression on his face faded when he saw Corbin's number.

"Fuck you," he muttered, and tossed the phone back on the bed, just missing his guitar.

Once it had stopped ringing, it began to ring again anew, and Eli scooped it up once more and stared at it. After a moment, he realized Corbin had left a voicemail. Eli hadn't talked to the goalie since graduation, and he sensed listening to the message wasn't going to help the pain he still felt after the Championship, but he couldn't make himself put down the phone.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, and pressed the buttons to play the voicemail.

 _Hey... Eli... it's me. Corbin. Hey, I wish you were here. Do you remember Alaska? And, uh, that time you kissed me? I think about that a lot. I think about you… a lot. I wish we could hang out. With Liam, too. You know, Liam's a good guy. It's not his fault... about this. About us. I mean, you know? I miss you._

Eli slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, his chest tight and his gaze fixed on the closet door.

He pressed a button on his phone and listened to the message again.

By the third play-through, he was curled up on his side, awkwardly atop all the clothes, books, and other mounds of random belongings piled all over his bed. His eyes stung, and he sniffled several times, suddenly aware he was crying.

Eli rubbed his face against one of his pillows, letting the dampness from his eyes and nose seep into the fabric. The act reminded him of sneezing into the hotel pillow in Alaska, when he had been sick with Corbin's cold, and he began crying afresh, burying his face into the black fabric.

After a good half hour of intermittent sobbing, Eli pulled himself off the bed and walked down the hallway to the bathroom, where he splashed his face with cold water, grateful to have the house to himself. When he returned to his bedroom, he picked up his guitar and returned to the stool, grabbing his pick from the floor and settling back in.

He strummed the E-flat chord again, hummed a few snatches of a melody, then tilted his head, concentrating. This time, he started with A-flat, then moved to C-minor and then to E-flat, finishing with G-minor and then back to A-flat again. Excited, he repeated the progression, sometimes adding in a B-flat. After a few repetitions, he implemented a pick pattern and began to sing.

"Baby, take your time. Stop and see for once in your life, the things you're missing out on. Like me, like me in the sunshine...."

Eli allowed the tears to come as he continued to sing. He wrapped around from verse to chorus to bridge and back again, before at last leaning over and grabbing the notepad on his desk so he could scribble down the chords and lyrics.

"It's too cold for June. How come I only hear from you when you're liquored up?"


	19. Interlude: I Just Need a Little Time

“No,” Liam mumbled.

An orange paw reached out, tentatively, delicately.

“Don’t,” Liam warned.

Dust rested her paw on Liam’s cheek and began to purr.

“Whatever. Guess I’m getting up.”

Liam sat up in bed, longish blonde hair arcing in several directions, and swiped at the sleep in his eyes. “Happy? Fucking cat.” He paired the words with a swift motion, scooping Dust into his arms and leaping out of bed. She purred enthusiastically as he held her out and raced her around the room like a rocket ship.

When he started feeling dizzy, he finally set her down and tugged on a ratty pair of blue jeans, a t-shirt, and some socks, then grabbed his phone to text Bry.

Liam brushed his teeth hurriedly and rattled down the stairs to find the house predictably empty. Saturdays were gym days for his parents; it was only half past one, and Liam didn’t really expect them home until dinnertime.

Sucking on a Go-Gurt tube, he sat on the edge of the kitchen counter and practiced opening and closing the lower cabinet door with his foot until he heard the puck smack into the side of the house. He drank a few mouthfuls of tap water using his hands as a cup, then went out through the garage. With a punch of the button, the door groaned open, and Liam sat on the curb, tugging on his roller blades and giving Bry a wave.

“What took you so long?” Liam called.

“You’re the one who slept until one,” Bry retorted, dragging the net with its goalie tarp down the driveway and into the street. His black hair was short and spiked, and his brown skin already had a light sheen of sweat from skating over in the triple-digit Texas heat.

“It’s off season. Sue me.”

"You should text Cor. It’d be better if we had a goalie. Plus he could use the practice.”

“It’s off season.”

“You two still fighting?”

Liam paused, glancing up from his laces. “Do you want to get into everyone else’s business, or do you want to play?”

A look passed between them, and Bry uncharacteristically backed off.

“Whatever.”

They warmed up by taking turns shooting the puck at the empty net, then practiced passes, blocking shots, and intercepting. As a winger, Liam particularly enjoyed deking past Bry, a defenseman, to score. After twenty minutes, the teens were drenched with perspiration, but they continued for another hour before Liam raided the fridge for Gatorade.

He tossed a blue one to Bry and opened a red one for himself, trying not to drink it too quickly. They sat together on the porch steps, having moved the net up onto the driveway and out of any traffic, though there had only been two cars earlier.

“Wanna go swimming later?” Bry asked.

Liam winced visibly, and Bry shot him a scowl.

“You know what? Fine. Don’t tell me what happened this spring. I don’t want to know. I don’t really care.” The defenseman stood up, and Liam stood, too. They were almost the same height, standing in their skates, hair plastered to their faces. “I really don’t,” Bry continued. “But it kind of sucks that I'm leaving to start school at Columbia in a month and you're all shutting me out.”

“Bry, it’s—”

“It’s whatever, man. It’s whatever.”

Leaving his empty Gatorade bottle on the curb, Bry skated away pointedly, in a rush to get the two streets over to his house.

With a sigh, Liam picked up the bottles and threw them in the recycle bin inside the garage, then put away the net and his skates.

Inside, he refilled Dust’s cat food bowl with the dry kibbles and slowly climbed the stairs to the bathroom for a shower. Dust met him afterward on the bed, where she had curled up like a cinnamon roll.

“It’s just complicated,” he explained to her. “I mean, more complicated than it should be. Than it has any right to be.”

At this, Liam absently touched his fingers to the twin scars that gleamed in half-moons across his chest, which was still wet from the shower.

Dust stretched and yawned widely, fangs menacing him in her tiny mouth.

“I know it’s just Bry. He gets cranky with everyone.” Liam paused, scritching behind Dust’s ears. “Maybe I should’ve texted Cor. ...Do you think I should text Cor?”

Dust closed her eyes entirely and Liam sprawled on his back, letting the air dry him, continuing his conversation with himself as he toyed with the edge of the pillowcase. “I could call instead. You know, all casual. Like, ‘Hey, Cor, what’s up?’ You know, cuz that would go so well. Watch me get extra lucky and have Eli answer the phone instead.”

Liam pressed his lips into a thin line and sprang up from the bed, kicking one of Dust’s catnip toys into the wall. He dressed quickly, roughly, not bothering to button or zip his blue jeans, tangling his arms in his shirt and cursing when he skidded into the wall.

“Fucking CHRIST, I wish this had never happened.”

Dust slunk out of the room unobserved, and Liam grabbed his laptop and navigated to Netflix by habit. After a few moments of mindless clicking, he shut the laptop harshly, finished putting on his jeans, and stalked downstairs. He flipped his phone over and over in his hands, then started a text.

Liam put down his phone and took in a deep breath. Bry wasn’t the only one from the team, and Zander had been fairly oblivious to everything that had happened in Anchorage. And everything that fell apart afterward.

He sent a quick text to his mom to let her know he was going out for food, then grabbed the keys to the Honda and headed for the restaurant. He got there before Zander and waited in the car with the A/C on, dreaming about escaping from Texas.

A knock on the window got his attention, and Liam saw Zander grinning at him. Liam turned off the car and cuffed the goalie on the shoulder.

“You don’t look half as bad as everyone says,” Liam teased, eyeing Zander’s right wrist, which sported a neon-green cast.

“ _Pues_ , well, you’re still skinny as fuck, huh? Let’s get inside. It’s a fucking oven.”

Liam followed Zander into the restaurant, an eccentric burrito place with tinfoil everywhere and a Statue of Liberty figure riding a motorcycle out of a wall.

“Man, I haven’t seen you since graduation,” Zander commented, skimming over the menu.

“Yeah, it’s been awhile.”

“Been busy?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Are you kidding? Everyone is freaking the fuck out about my wrist. All I do is tell people it’s fine and I’ll be fine by the start of the season and they can all shut the fuck up now.” Zander grinned, showing slightly uneven teeth and a dimple in his left cheek.

“Grats on the scholarship, by the way,” Liam offered.

“Thanks, man.”

After they ordered, they found a tiny table scrunched against a wall littered with foil designs.

“So Maine, huh?”

“Yeah, the Black Bears. They did pretty well last season. And after that, who knows?” Zander took a bite of his burrito, nodding as if he had said something very wise.

“Nice, man. Just gotta heal your wrist so you’re not useless,” Liam mocked.

“Ehh, fuck you,” Zander offered without malice. “And you? Austin, right?”

Liam took a sip of his Coke and shook his head. “I mean, the plan was always UT Austin. Ever since middle school. Both my parents are Longhorns. It just... wasn’t really a question.”

“Then... what happened?”

“It's... a long story,” Liam explained. "But... I'm actually heading to UAA."

"Hey, congrats. Not to play hockey for the Seawolves, though?" Zander asked.

"No, just for school. We're not all super stars," Liam teased.

Laughing, Zander rolled his eyes. Liam looked out the window across the crowded restaurant and saw the pavement shimmering in the evening heat. If they were lucky, it would drop to 85ºF or so some time in the middle of the night, before rocketing back up to the 105ºF high they had endured today.

“That's where Eli and Corbin are going, right? You guys can tear shit up,” Zander teased.

“Yeah, for sure."

As the two talked about college and then about hockey, Liam felt his heart lighten a little. After they finished eating, they drove to the GameStop on 281, played some of the demos, and made fun of the horrible new titles coming out. By the time he got home at nearly eight, Liam had forgotten that he hadn’t heard Corbin’s voice in fifty-four days.

* * *

Liam returned to find a note from his mom that she and his dad were on their evening jog, and might stop at the store later to get more protein powder. Finding a pen, Liam scrawled on the bottom:

Trudging up the stairs to his bedroom, Liam tried to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his night.

“Saturday Shot Day, I might as well get it over with,” he sighed. “Then maybe a movie night.”

From under his bed, Liam pulled out the box where he kept his medical supplies and tugged down his jeans to expose his right thigh. Then he tore open one of the alcohol wipes and swabbed the vial, opened the syringe, and filled it with the correct dose, examining it for bubbles. Finding none, Liam closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying not to look at the needle part of the syringe. He swabbed the injection site with a fresh alcohol wipe, let it dry, and spoke aloud.

“I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.”

Then he jabbed the needle into his thigh, wincing, and checked it warily before injecting the T. _enanthate_. Afterward, he removed the needle and placed it in the disposal container with one hand, using the other to hold a bit of gauze to his thigh.

“Holy fuck, why does this have to hurt so much?”

After a few minutes, Liam put everything away, gingerly pulled his jeans back on, and flopped back on the bed. He stayed there, staring at the stucco pattern on the ceiling, until the pain subsided and he had started looking for constellations in the bumps and whorls above.

“Ugh. Movie time. And ice cream.”

Carefully, Liam made his way to the kitchen, fixed himself a bowl of chocolate ice cream with chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, and glob of creamy peanut butter on top, then retreated to his room and opened his laptop.

Liam picked some comedian show he hadn’t heard of and licked his spoon while laughing along with the audience. Sensing the shift in his mood, Dust returned and kept him company, curling up against his foot until it fell asleep and he had to move it. When the garage door opened a couple hours later, Liam paused the comedian and turned to Dust, who had relocated to his pillow.

“Should I go say hi? No? Yeah, you’re right. I probably don’t have much to say.”

Dust gave a meow and rested her head on her paws.

“They’re here when it counts, though,” Liam replied, almost defensively, as if Dust had suggested otherwise. “Or maybe equally not here. On board with who I am but never around to see it,” he mused.

Flicking her tail, Dust eyed him.

“I know. And I am grateful. And also sleepy.”

Liam shoved the ice cream bowl onto a corner of his desk, trying not to knock over the stack of papers and wrappers and books.

“You can stay if you’re gonna be quiet,” he told Dust, gently pushing her off the pillow. Liam plugged in his phone to charge, pulled up a playlist of mostly feel-good punk-rock songs, and undressed to his boxers.

After he snuggled under the covers, Dust came closer to sit on his hair, and he pet the top of her head, then closed his eyes. As he was drifting off, he murmured along to the music, _“What is it about you that I adore? Staring across the room, are you leaving soon? I just need a little time. Why did you have to leave so soon?”_


	20. My Prayers

Shafts of buttercream sunlight spilled into the garage, pooling along cardboard folds and discarded lawn tools, illuminating a thousand dancing dust motes.

Just the sight of the tiny clumps, winking in the early morning light, caused Corbin's breath to hitch.

"Ihh! Hhhh! _HIH-Tschuu! Hiiesshuuu!_ Fuck every... hhh! evhhh... every... thhiiiihh! ihhh! _Het-TSCHU!!_ *sniff* everything!"

The lanky goalie had sneezed freely, not bothering to cover, and now ran a slender hand under his nose, leaving a trail of clear dampness across his index finger, which he wiped on his loose jeans.

Saturday morning found Corbin standing at the raised garage door, arms folded across his chest, sniffling intermittently. His father had tasked him with cleaning out the guest bedroom, where the two had been storing random belongings since before the divorce. His mother had not opted to sort through anything of hers in there, and had instead moved thousands of miles away and given full custody to his father. That had been fifth grade, which meant Corbin had at least seven years worth of junk to tackle.

If his allergies let up.

So far, he had moved two boxes. One was a medium box marked "WEDDING," which Corbin had decided not to open, instead opting to bring it down to the garage and slide it behind the rickety metal shelf with all the tools. The other was a small box with his name written on the side in black permanent marker, in a child's handwriting. His, he presumed. At first, he had thought to put it in the garage with the other box, but now, still sniffling, he decided to open it. 

July meant a baking sun, so he plugged in the oscillating fan near the garage entrance, pulled over a plastic lawn chair, and slit open the box with his keys. Opening it caused a poof of dust to rise into the air, and he closed his eyes, his breathing growing shaky.

"Should... ihh! should've... hehhh! taken aller.. ihhh! hhh! _Hep-TSCHUuuuuu! Ehkk-ghhhssshuuu! Hiiiessshh! Hap'TSCHH! Tschhh! Heh'IITSCHuuuu!_ "

The wet sneezes interrupted his sentiment, spraying out over his hands and misting the box until damp droplets seeped in, darkening the cardboard flaps. Groaning, Corbin rubbed at the tip of his nose with his hand, feeling wetness come away when he was done. Without any tissues nearby, he sniffled rapidly, guiltily swiping his hand against his jeans once more, although no one was around to see his wet, messy sneezes.

When he was sure he had his nose under control, Corbin lifted the flaps to the box once more and began rummaging around inside. There were piles of art projects from elementary school, tissue-paper flowers, something made from pipe cleaners, and a class photo from second grade. After a few more stacks of the same art assortments, Corbin came to a small, bound journal with the outline of hands on the front, pressed together. Gold leaf spelled the words, "My Prayers."

Something made Corbin open the book and flip through it, instead of placing it on the pile of haphazard drawings from grade school.

Corbin stared at the page, at his lopsided handwriting, at the last sentence. He skipped a few dozen pages, then stopped to read again.

He thumbed through the pages, catching words here and there, until he realized the handwriting had gotten a bit tidier and the same phrase seemed to be repeating itself in many of the prayers: “Please make me stop.”

_Please make me stop liking him._

_Please make me stop feeling this way._

_Please make me stop wanting this._

Corbin found himself breathing shakily, though not from a need to sneeze. A sharp prickle pressed against his eyes, and he squeezed them shut, breathing in through his slightly-stuffy nose and out through his mouth for several counts. When he opened his eyes, he set the journal gently back inside the box and pulled out his cell phone.

Hands trembling, he texted Eli.


	21. Sitting on the Porch Steps

Eli walked around the side of the house and found Corbin on the back porch steps, nestled tightly with his arms around his knees. Corbin had not heard him approach, and Eli took a moment to drink in the person who had been his best friend only months before.

Corbin’s hair was growing out, down to his shoulders, still thick and gently curly. His shoulder blades protruded from the thin cotton of his t-shirt in an angular way that made Eli wonder if the goalie had lost weight.

The text had simply asked Eli to call. And he had, edging himself up in bed and trying to banish the sleep from his mind, dialing Corbin against his better judgment, and wondering if the goalie would actually be drunk on a Saturday morning. But instead, Corbin had been acutely sober, and the halting conversation that followed was enough to lead Eli to Corbin’s door.

Eli cleared his throat, and Corbin turned around, then stood.

“...Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Thanks. For coming over,” Corbin said quietly.

“You... sounded upset,” Eli commented, walking over to the porch steps and hesitating near Corbin.

“I... I’m sorry.”

“It’s no big deal. Not like I was really asleep anyway,” Eli responded.

“No, I mean... I...” Corbin began, then coiled back down on the steps and gestured for Eli to sit, too. When he did, Corbin handed him a small, black book.

“What’s this?” Eli asked.

Corbin skipped his fingers along the edge of the book, where several pages had their corners folded down.

“I... I can’t... can you... can you just read those?” he implored.

Eli tilted his head to the side, puzzled, but opened the book to the first mark and began to read.

After the first entry, he realized his hands were trembling, his muscles mirroring his mind in the unsteady exploration, but he continued, flipping through to the next marked entry, then the next, his eyes trapped within the pages. When he finished, he cautiously closed the book.

At last, he looked over at Corbin, turning to face him, their legs grazing.

“You’re trying to show me that you... used to like boys?” Eli asked, awash in confusion.

“I still do,” Corbin replied. He brought his hand to rest on Eli’s knee, fingers bent in supplication.

“I know,” Eli answered, forcing back the bile of his pain. “You and Liam,” he added.

“I messed around with Liam because it was messing around,” Corbin murmured. “Because it didn’t have to mean anything. Because if I fucked it all up, it wouldn’t really matter. Because I knew it would hurt you, and I wanted to hurt you because I was scared. Because if I hurt you, then I would push you away, and if I pushed you away, I wouldn’t have to come to terms with... what I feel for you.”

Corbin’s voice quavered, half-drowned in pools of shame. “I hurt you. On purpose. And it was wrong. And I am so, so sorry, Eli. You are incredible, and you deserve so much better than that, and I am so sorry for how I treated you, and the things I did and said.”

Eli had begun to cry, but it startled him when he saw Corbin was crying, too. In awe, the center touched the tips of his fingers to the tears that streaked Corbin’s cheeks. Tenderly, he enfolded Corbin in his arms, pulling the goalie close and allowing him to rest his head against Eli’s neck. Eli caressed Corbin’s shoulders and back, crying with him in the oppressive Texas heat.

After several moments, Eli extracted himself from Corbin’s arms, a separation.

“What now? Are you... going to tell people you’re gay?”

“I’m not gay,” Corbin intoned, and then, after a huffed breath, he repeated, “I’m not gay, Eli. I’m... I don’t know. I mean, I do actually like girls. And, um, boys.” Corbin flinched at the admission.

“Bi, then?” Eli asked.

“Fuck if I know. Labels are shitty, anyway. Isn’t it enough that I like you?”

Eli weighed this, looking away from Corbin so he could concentrate without getting distracted by the sight of Corbin’s pink nose.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I guess that depends.”

“On what?” Corbin asked.

“On where we go from here,” Eli answered.

“What do you mean?”

“Fuck, Corbin, do you need me to spell it out?” Eli asked, taking a step back as if physically displaced by the wave of Corbin’s ignorance.

“Yeah, actually, I do,” Corbin retorted, then forced himself to shed his irritation. “Eli, I don’t know what I’m doing. All of this is new to me.”

“It’s new to me, too.”

“Is it? Haven’t you, I mean...?” Corbin trailed off.

“What, been gay for a long time, or something?” Eli responded.

“Yeah.”

“I tried not to think about it. I mean, I think... I think there’s something else going on. I don’t... I don’t want people the way other people want people. I mean, to do things with them,” Eli explained.

“I’m lost.”

“So am I. But my point is that I wasn’t really sure about any of this, not until the Championship, and anyway, I’ve never had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend, either. I... I don’t know. No one knows this about me. I mean, except y—”

“Shit,” Corbin mumbled, slicing through Eli’s rambling. “This is the worst tihhh... time for thihh! hih! this, but I have to sn... sneehhh! ehh!! _Ehpt’TSCHUUU! Heh’ESCHHuuuu!_ ”

Acutely aware of Eli’s eyes on him, Corbin brought his hands to his face and cupped them over his nose and mouth, issuing a damp pair of sneezes against his fingers. The sneezes were wetter than he had anticipated, and he blushed deeply before wiping his hands on his jeans, leaving a dark streak of moisture like the tail of a comet.

Eli looked away, then looked back at Corbin, and then looked down again.


	22. What Do You Want With Me?

“Bless you.”

Eli spoke the words cautiously, unsure whether acknowledging Corbin’s sneezes was really the best course of action.

“Um, thank you,” Corbin replied, trying not to sniffle. “I... I know you....”

Before he could finish, Eli interrupted. “We are not having that discussion, Cor. I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on between us.”

“Well, I thought it was pretty obvious,” Corbin answered, his voice holding a slight edge.

“Well, it’s not.”

“What do you want from me?” Corbin asked, raising his hands in the air with exasperation. Corbin’s soft brown curls had fallen into his face, and he jerked his chin to force the strands to the side and clear his vision. The gesture was almost comical, but Eli only sighed.

“Cor.... I need you to tell me what you want with me. Not _from_ me, but _with_ me. What do you want with me?”

Corbin let the question billow around them like inscrutable mist as he studied Eli’s long eyelashes and the contours of his lips. After over a minute of silence, he reached for Eli’s hand.

“I want to be with you.” He paused, a wince flitting over his face. “But I don’t know how. Or if it’s safe. This isn’t exactly the most... understanding town or state. I don’t know how people will react.”

“You mean you don’t know if people will think less of you,” Eli clarified, allowing his hand to remain in Corbin’s grasp, his palm growing sweaty from fear and the grueling heat.

“Yeah,” Corbin admitted, using his free hand to massage his nose, hoping the tickle wouldn’t blossom into a sneeze and derail the conversation again. “I don’t. To be honest, I’m scared shitless. I don’t know how to be with you in the open. I want to...” he began, then stopped and licked his lips in a gesture of nerves or agitation. “I want to take you to the movies. Hold your hand in the mall. Kiss you at the hockey rink. But Eli, I’m... I’m not ready for that. I’m not—I don’t—I... I... I’m not there yet.”

“You’re... ashamed of me,” Eli summarized, sliding his hand smoothly from Corbin’s fingers and wiping it against his pants, uncaring if the motion seemed like he was trying to scrub Corbin off of his skin.

“And you’re not of me? You’d be totally fine with everyone we know and every last stranger knowing we’re queer?”

Eli considered. In all of his daydreams about Corbin, he had always imagined the two of them in some sort of alternate reality, a queer utopia where everyone was gay and no one was scared. Reality was simply not Eli’s forte. But he forced himself to imagine the two of them at Northstar Mall, walking hand in hand past the food court, their fingers intertwined. The image felt ridiculous, and he cringed away from it, hunching his shoulders.

“What, then? You go back to screwing every girl at school?” Eli asked.

“No.”

“Okay, well...?”

“Eli, I... I want to be with you. I want to, um... be your boyfriend.” Corbin pressured the words from his mouth, cognizant that he had hushed his voice, afraid of being overheard. “I want to have you over to my room and make out with you. I want to, um, you know. Do the things couples do. Hold hands. Give each other valentines. Cuddle. Just... in private.”

“In private.”

“Yeah. When we’re alone, we’ll do all that stuff. And we can even go on dates. But, um, we’ll just... pretend we’re friends hanging out, you know?”

Eli sifted through Corbin’s proposition. _What do I want? Do I really want to go hold hands with him at the movies? Would I even want everyone to know? And Mom...? Am I ready to navigate that conversation? And if she takes it badly...?_ Eli halted that train of thought when he realized he was quaking, despite the hundred-degree heat that ensconced them both.

“This is hard,” Eli admitted. “It’s... hard not to feel like you’re ashamed of me. But... I get what you’re saying. And I’m not really sure if I’m ready for everything that would come along with us being public about ‘us,’ you know? So... um... yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I want you to be my boyfriend. And I want to be yours. Is it official now?” Eli asked.

“Not until we seal it with a kiss,” Corbin replied, veiling his relief with a teasing tone. He drew Eli into his arms once more, sliding his hands to the small of Eli’s back and nuzzling his pinkened nose to Eli’s chin, cheek, throat... and then pressing his lips to Eli and kissing him.


	23. Two Hours 'til Zyrtec

Pressing a cold washcloth over his eyes and nose, Liam groaned and leaned against the wall in the new dorm room he shared with Corbin. The window across from the closet remained firmly shut, despite the gorgeous, seventy-degree weather outside. Gorgeous, perhaps, for everyone but Liam, who had discovered that Anchorage in August had a very different effect on him than Anchorage in March.

When they had visited for the Youth Nationals that past Spring, the city had seemed desolate. Spindly, bare branches clawed up toward the sky without a single leaf or bud. Residential yards and the sides of the road sported an expansive brown covering that turned out to be dead grass, matted and decaying after months beneath several feet of snow. The Alamo Blue Jays had used their imagination, picturing the city as it must’ve been during the heart of December, a veritable Winter Wonderland. Or even as it would be over the glorious Summer, pale green grasses and gentle breezes buoying trembling aspen leaves.

But now, in late August, something had changed. Liam was not even sure what was causing his distress, but ever since their arrival, he had not been able to stop sniffling and sneezing. His eyes itched and his nose ran. He was certain his face was puffy, and his upper lip ached from constant contact with tissue after tissue.

Liam drew his index finger down the length of his nose, then pressed against the tip, making a soft, squishing sound, a sort of ssqnkk-snnshhh, and followed the motion with a sniffle.

“You gonna make it?” Corbin asked, looking up at the winger from his English composition textbook with a hesitant smile. He sat cross-legged on the bed, wearing blue jeans and a thermal long-sleeve shirt, his hair tucked behind his ears to stay out of his face as he studied.

“Baybe. Jury’s sdill ouhd,” Liam replied stuffily. It was a week into the semester, and he was still trying to recover from the stress and chaos of the transition, on top of his allergies. “By deh way, dahks agahd for beihg so cool wihd eberydihg. I dow by bohb....” Liam halted, reached for a tissue, and blew his nose quietly. He crumpled the tissue and tossed it in the trash, then breathed experimentally. “Ugh, better. My mom. She’s....” Liam let the words fade with a grimace.

“Your mom is intense when she wants to be,” Corbin commented.

Mrs. Hathaway had decided to be the adult who flew with Corbin, Eli, and Liam from San Antonio to Anchorage and helped the three teens get settled into the dorms. Between the awkwardness of being around Corbin and Eli, and then his unexpected allergies, Liam had already begun to regret their pact to attend UAA. And then the drama with the dorms began, with Mrs. Hathaway tangling with the college over their attempt to put Liam with female roommates at the last minute. Two days and a lot of yelling later, Liam had been placed back with Corbin, as their original room assignments had stated.

“Yeah,” Liam agreed. He, too, wore blue jeans, paired with a plain black t-shirt, and he had kept his shoes on, still adjusting to the Alaskan habit of leaving all footwear at the door, regardless of season. He touched the trash can with the toe of his shoe, trying to see how far he could tip it without pushing it over.

Liam had offered to change room assignments, but all four teens had to sign off on the arrangement, and, for some unknown reason, Eli’s new roommate had outright refused.

It was awkward, rooming with Corbin when they had been so intimate back in March at the Youth Nationals. And especially with this new development between Corbin and Eli. Neither of them had outright told Liam anything, but it was obvious they had sorted out the pain and misunderstandings from the Spring and Summer, and were now building some sort of relationship.

“I... I’m kind of relieved,” Liam admitted, lowering his voice a bit. “I mean, sharing a room with a total stranger would be difficult enough, but trying to hide my trans-ness from a roommate would be, well... really anxiety-inducing.” He sniffed a couple times, then sighed with frustration at his allergies. “You’re the only one who knows. I mean, unless you told Eli?”

“No, I haven’t,” Corbin replied. “I figured you... well... it’s your stuff to share or not share, and if you wanted him to know, you’d tell him. I feel kind of weird that I know and he doesn’t, but... I dunno. It’s cool, man.”

“Thank you,” Liam said again, then groaned. “Ugh, two more hours until I can take another Zyrtec. Where’s Eli, anyway?”

“Class. Until four or something like that. When he gets back, do you wanna—”

“Huhh! Hold on, gonna sn... sneeze!” Liam fumbled for the box of tissues, his eyelids fluttering closed and his hand groping along his desk. Unsuccessful, he brought his hands back to his face and cupped them over his nose and mouth. “ _Uhh’KISHHH! Uhpt’Kieeshhhuuu!_ Hhh! Iiihhh! _Uh’Kisshuuu!_ ”

After the last sneeze, Liam shyly opened his eyes and looked down at his fingers which were soaked with spray. Embarrassed, he found the tissue box and grabbed several, wiping at his hands and sniffling rapidly.

“Um, excuse me,” Liam mumbled.

Corbin placed the textbook in his lap to hide his reaction. He had hoped, fervently, that getting with Eli would lessen or even end his enjoyment of sneezing, as if it had manifested as a way for Corbin to cope with his desire for the center. In fact, the opposite had occurred. Corbin found himself increasingly aroused from certain types of sneezes, and Liam’s sneezes created instant hardness and an accompanying desire that left Corbin nearly dizzy.

“Bless you,” Corbin managed. “I’m, uh, gonna take a shower.”

The goalie slid off the bed, still holding his textbook, and carried it with him out the door and down the hall into the bathroom. Once inside, he looked at the textbook in his hand, then sighed. In his haste to get away from Liam before the winger noticed his reaction, Corbin had managed to forget just about everything he needed to actually take a shower: flip flops, towel, soap, change of clothes.... But his hard-on wasn’t going away, and he couldn’t return to the dorm room yet. Corbin set his textbook on the bathroom counter and leaned against the tiled wall. He counted to ten, then to twenty, then gave up and unbuttoned his jeans, thrusting his hand down to grip his cock through his boxers, stroking it slowly.

Corbin conjured Liam’s face, nose so pink, lips moist from the sneezes, messy dark blond hair falling into his wide brown eyes. All of the torturous sniffles and hitched breaths. The shape of Liam’s wrist and fingers as he scrubbed at his nose. Knowing he was getting close, Corbin jerked down his boxers and grabbed a wad of toilet paper, holding it to the tip of his cock. From outside the door, he heard muffled voices, then Liam speaking clearly.

“No, I think Corbin’s in there. Said something about a shower, I th... uhhh! _Uhh’KISHH! KISSHhhuuu!_ ”

Bracing himself with one hand against the sink area, Corbin quickened his strokes, waiting for the third sneeze he knew was coming.

“Uhh! Hhhuh! Hiiiehh! _KIIESSSHuuuu!_ Whew, oh my god, that was wet.”

Corbin turned his head, pressing his face into his shoulder and stifling a moan as he filled the tissue with cum.

Liam stood outside the bathroom door, alone, and swiped at his nose with his hand, wondering if his sneezes had been enough to bring Corbin the release he so obviously needed. When he heard running water from the sink, he crept quietly back to their dorm room.


	24. Wish You Were Here

Birdsong drifted in through the open window, carried on the fresh, crisp Summer air, and Eli allowed himself a somewhat inhibited smile. He resettled himself on his bed, at last finding a comfortable position to rest his acoustic guitar, and held the pick in his right hand. Humming along softly, he played the first several chords to “Wish You Were Here” by Incubus, closing his eyes and finding the fingering positions by memory. As he moved to play a D chord, the door clicked, then opened, and his new roommate walked in.

Kristofer Slavik had fairly short blond hair and light blue eyes that reminded Eli of a chilled November sky. Privately, Eli thought Kristofer—who went by Kris—resembled some sort of Scandinavian underwear model, but he had decided it would be unwise to share that observation with anyone. At the moment, Kris’s underwear was entirely un-visible: he wore loose khaki cargo shorts and a blue and grey short-sleeved dress shirt unbuttoned over a white t-shirt. He had taken off his shoes at the door and now entered their bedroom in his socks, setting down his backpack on his bed.

Eli glanced up at him and again felt a wave of un-belonging. If Eli really was gay, then why did he feel absolutely no attraction to this nineteen-year-old guy who looked like an underwear model and shared a bedroom with him? Shouldn’t he feel _something_? A flush on his cheeks, a modicum of lust? Kris had even sneezed, twice, while they were moving into the dorm room, and while Eli could appreciate the aesthetics of the sound (and the body it came from), there was no desire component. He didn’t want to touch Kris or kiss Kris or seduce Kris. Eli sighed. _Only I would turn not wanting to cheat on my boyfriend with my straight roommate into a bad thing._

Kris spoke, interrupting Eli’s inner monologue.

“Hey, Eli. Whatcha up to?”

“Hey, Kris. Just messing around on the guitar.”

Eli had not pulled out his guitar since he had moved in, and now he strummed the D chord he had been about to play before Kris’s entrance.

“Oh, you play?” Kris replied, surprise creeping into his voice.

“Yeah. I’m not amazing or anything, but I’m not half bad.”

“What were you playing before I came in?” Kris asked.

“‘Wish You Were Here,’ by Incubus.”

“Mind if I listen?”

Eli shrugged. “Go for it.”

Kris settled onto his bed, next to his backpack, and waited.

Oddly nervous, Eli began the song from the intro, long fingers pressing down tightly on the strings, pick flitting over the sound hole.

“I dig my toes into the sand.....” Kris’s voice joined in as Eli began playing the first verse, and the dark-haired center nearly dropped his pick.

“The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket,” Kris continued. His voice was a warm tenor, unerringly on key, and he enunciated the words like someone who had performed in a choir. Kris hooked his heels on the frame of his bed and smiled at Eli, who was openly staring at him.

“I lean against the wind, pretend that I am weightless. And in this moment, I am happy. Happy....” Kris sang along with Eli, who managed to continue playing, tearing his eyes away and focusing on the texture of the blanket on his bed. After he played the outro, he let the last reverberations of the notes hang in the air, before at last setting the guitar down on the bed and turning to Kris.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could sing,” Eli remarked, rubbing his thumb across the calloused fingertips of his left hand.

“I didn’t know you could play,” Kris countered, grinning. He had a wide mouth, with even teeth and pale lips. “The guitar, I mean. I figured you for a jock, after I heard you talking hockey with your friends.”

Eli laughed, giving Kris an incredulous look. “And you? You’ve got like... three inches on me, and you’re built like a defenseman.”

“I know. Such a waste, eh? And all I do with my time is sing and play video games.”

“You don’t play any sports?” Eli asked.

“Nah. My parents wanted me to play hockey. Especially since my dad made it to the minors and really wanted me to go all the way. Put me through Pee Wee hockey for years until I started failing all my classes on purpose. I told him I’d get all F’s or he could let me join the middle school choir. I’m pretty sure he thought I was gay for like... two years. I mean, nothing wrong with gay people, I guess. Just funny he thought I was one.”

Eli froze, carefully working to keep the interested smile on his face. _Does he know? Wouldn’t he have said if he did?_

“I actually did hear there were some gay people in the choir, but then I got my first girlfriend and he calmed down. I ended up staying in choir all through high school,” Kris continued.

Eli felt his pulse slowing as he realized Kris had not made the connection.

“And you happen to know all the words to this song?” Eli asked, his smile becoming genuine as he thought back to the sound of Kris’s singing voice.

“I... used to sing it. To my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend,” Kris amended. “Over the phone, when her family went to New York in the Summers.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, man,” Eli offered.

“It’s fine.” Kris paused. “That’s... actually why I didn’t want to switch roommate assignments. She cheated on me with this guy in one of her classes, and he looks a lot like that friend of yours. Lenny?”

“Liam,” Eli corrected.

“Yeah, Liam. I know that’s kind of dick of me, and I’m sorry. It just happened about a month ago, and it’s all kind of fresh, you know?”

Eli nodded, thinking back to the bite marks on Liam’s neck. “I know. When people hurt you, it can take a long time to fade.”

“Man, this got heavy. Anyway, yeah, I sing. And you play. So we should jam together again sometime, eh?” Kris grinned, tilting his head to the side a little.

“Yeah, we should. What other songs do you know?” They eased the conversation back into music territory, and Eli tried not to think about Kris’s earlier comment. _Nothing wrong with gay people, I guess._ The words settled in his chest like clumps of scalding tar.


	25. Stolen Moments

“So do you think he knows?” Corbin asked. He was stretched out on his bed, his head in Eli’s lap. Liam was in class, and the goalie had decided to seize the rare privacy. His long, brown curls spilled across Eli’s jeans, and his hazel eyes looked up at Eli questioningly. The center ran a hand through Corbin’s hair, petting him affectionately, then drew the tip of his finger down the length of Corbin’s nose, painting him with an invisible brush.

“I don’t think so,” Eli replied. He pushed up the sleeves of his black shirt, then returned his touches to Corbin’s cheeks and lips. The goalie let his lips part and gifted a kiss to Eli’s fingers.

“And that’s why he wouldn’t trade with us? Because Liam looks like some guy who stole his girlfriend?” Corbin asked.

“Apparently.” Eli studied Corbin, looking down at him, from the shape of his chin to the rise and fall of his chest under a dark blue t-shirt, to the pajama bottoms he wore, drawstrings dangling. “Have you finished that paper yet?” Eli asked.

“Not exactly. I started it, though,” Corbin replied, accepting the non sequitur. He dangled his arm over the edge of the bed to graze Eli’s leg. “What about you?”

“Not yet. I’ve been working on my math assignment.”

Eli furrowed his brow, the thought of trig conjuring a dark reaction from him, but he continued to thread his fingers through Corbin’s hair, sometimes tugging on it lightly.

“My nose tickles,” Corbin stated, as if making casual conversation.

Eli’s breath caught, and he muted his surprise and self-consciousness by staring at the wall. “It’s... been awhile since I’ve heard you sneeze,” he commented.

“Maybe we should fix that,” Corbin replied. “Would you... want to try to make me sneeze?” he asked, his voice unsteady.

“I... yes,” Eli answered in a whisper. “Please?”

“Okay. Um, how... do you want to do it?”

Eli ran a hand down Corbin’s chest, contemplating. “Um, well... you could try to inhale something powdery, like, um, dust, or um... powdered laundry soap?”

Corbin considered this, turning his head to glance around the dorm room. “I don’t think I have anything like that. There’s not any dust in here, and the soap is down in the laundry area. Is there something else?”

Eli tried to keep his tone neutral, somehow not wanting Corbin to know just how much it excited him to even be talking about this. “We could, um, try to tickle your nose with something. Like... a qtip or a toothpick or, um, one of those little twisty things that come with bread. Or the corner of a tissue,” he added.

“Let’s try that. The corner of a tissue.” Corbin sat up slowly and walked over to Liam’s desk, where a nearly-full box of Kleenex sat next to the computer. He brought the box back to his bed and sat down next to Eli. “How... do you want me?” Corbin asked, blushing.

Eli licked his lips involuntarily, running the tip of his tongue along them, then looking away.

“Put your head back down in my lap?” he asked.

Corbin complied, noticing the hardness in Eli’s jeans. And I haven’t even sneezed yet, he marveled.

Deftly, Eli plucked a tissue from the box and began rolling one corner into a point. When he was done, he touched it to Corbin’s nose and smiled nervously. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, but... what do you want me to do if I sneeze?” Corbin asked.

Eli’s mouth went dry. “Don’t cover,” he whispered.

Skeptical, Corbin made a shrugging motion, but agreed. “Okay. Go ahead.”

Carefully, Eli inserted the point of the tissue into the left side of Corbin’s nose, and the goalie immediately squirmed and pulled his head away. “God, that tickles! But not in a sneezy way. Like... I don’t know. Something else.”

“Try to steel yourself for it? It needs to go further in,” Eli explained.

“You sound like you’ve done this before,” Corbin observed, surprised.

“Um, only on myself,” Eli admitted, the pink color in his cheeks intensifying.

“You’ve made yourself sneeze?” Corbin asked. “Do your own sneezes get you going or something?”

Eli looked from Corbin’s beautiful hazel eyes to the wall, then back to Corbin, sighing quietly. “I used to pretend it was you,” he admitted.

Corbin watched him, wordless, his silence inviting the center to continue.

“I would cuddle up to my pillows at night, and hug them, and pretend it was you. And sometimes I’d make myself sneeze, and pretend it was you sneezing there with me.”

“That’s... adorable,” Corbin murmured, turning his head to kiss Eli’s stomach through his shirt.

“Yes, well, anyway,” Eli stammered. “Um, so you need to just kind of try to let yourself let the tissue go further in.”

“Okay.” Corbin wriggled his nose and smiled up at Eli. “Ready.”

Eli pressed the tip of his tongue to his teeth, then tried again. This time, Corbin shivered but let Eli slide the tissue point deeper into his nose. His eyes began to water, and he blinked several times. Eli changed the angle of the tissue and made a stroking motion with his wrist, as if drawing the point along the inside of Corbin’s nose.

“Thh... there,” Corbin spluttered. “I... have tihh! have tiiiihhh! Ihhh! snniihhh! _Heh-ESCHuuu! Heh’ISSCHH! ISCHHHuuuu!_ ”

True to his word, he had let the first sneeze go uncovered, the spray catching Eli’s cheeks as he bent over the goalie. The wetness had embarrassed Corbin, however, and he brought his hands up to catch the second and third sneezes, allowing the force of them to shudder through him.

Corbin could feel Eli’s cock throbbing through his jeans, but before he could comment, Eli had grabbed his hands and pried them away from his face, then bent down and kissed him, hard. Thrusting his tongue into Corbin’s mouth, Eli explored him hungrily, then broke away only to kiss the goalie’s nose, lapping at the faint wetness there.

Corbin’s body responded to Eli’s lust with a rush of excitement, and he undid his jeans with one hand, sliding his fingers into his boxers and around his cock.

“I... want... you,” Eli panted between kisses.

“We don’t have time,” Corbin replied. “He’ll be back from class really soon and there’s no way to lock this door to keep him out.”

“I _need_ you,” Eli insisted, unbuttoning his own jeans and tugging them down along with his boxers. He guided Corbin’s head to his cock and let out a low moan as the goalie began licking and suckling on it. Corbin’s nose was still a bit runny, and he sniffed here and there, reveling in the way his tickly, sniffly nose could make Eli pulse in his mouth. This thought made him pause for a moment, and he pulled his head away a fraction.

“Make me sneeze again.”

Eli picked up the tissue and rolled another point, more quickly this time, his fingers fumbling as Corbin licked at the bead of pre-cum on the tip of his cock.

“Same side?” he asked. Corbin nodded.

Aiming for the same spot as before, Eli inserted the point of the tissue and used Corbin’s ragged breathing as a guide, tickling at his nose with quick, urgent movements.

“Almohhh... almost,” Corbin breathed, then clutched at the hem of Eli’s shirt with his left hand as the sensation built. “Eli,” he warned, “I’m gonna... hhh! gonna... iiihhh!” Corbin’s hitched breaths came out in little puffs against Eli’s wet cock, and the center responded with hushed whimpering.

“Gonna sniiihh! iiiyyyhhh! _Ihhh’ITSSCHuuuu! Hep’TSCHH! Iyyyyiessshuuu!_ ”

Corbin let all three tickly, forceful sneezes land drenchingly on Eli’s cock, before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it while sniffling several times.

Eli had dropped the tissue and moved his hands back to Corbin’s hair. A half-second later, his grip tightened on the goalie’s soft curls, and he arched his back, biting down on his lip and mostly stifling a moan as he came against the back of Corbin’s throat.

Corbin swallowed messily, then suckled at Eli’s cock once more before turning his head to look up at the center. Eli fluttered his eyes open, his breathing a ragged aftershock.

“Bless you,” he managed.

“Thank you,” Corbin replied, his right hand still squeezing his own cock.

“Your turn?” Eli asked.

“There’s no time,” Corbin replied. “You need to clean up. He’s going to be here any minute.”

“Okay, but next time, you come first,” Eli asserted.

“I like this plan,” Corbin answered, grinning. He raised himself up on his elbows and briefly kissed Eli, who could taste himself on Corbin’s lips. “Now go clean up.”

“Okay, okay.” Eli grabbed a few tissues and dabbed at his cock, then pulled up his boxers and jeans. Corbin did the same, regretting his decision to turn down Eli’s invitation to reciprocate. He zipped up his jeans, tossed the tissue in the trash, and watched as Eli left, heading for the bathroom to clean up.


	26. Let Me Count the Ways

Wedging the toe of his shoe under the base of the table, Liam tipped back his chair, rocking in the position, his longish blond hair dangling freely.

“What did your mom want?”

“To lecture me.” Eli rubbed his fingers over the edge of his new iPhone, a goodbye gift from his mother with explicit strings to “keep in touch.” The two were camped out in the Student Union area after class, and had their backpacks piled together in one of the painted metal chairs with filigree detail.

“On what?” Liam’s bewildered tone matched the confusion on his face. “You’re going to class. It’s like, what? Three weeks into school? We barely have any grades.”

A cheer exploded from an adjacent room, and Eli glanced over at the arcade area to see a cluster of people laughing. The center swished the ice around in his Subway cup and took a sip of Coke.

“On Rosh Hashanah. It’s next weekend, and Mom wants me to go to synagogue.”

“Isn’t that, like, Jewish New Year?” Liam asked. His balance skittered away from him, and the chair thudded back down. The barista at the coffee shop counter snickered, arms crossed over his chest, and Liam tugged his shirt sleeves back down to his wrists, covering up his exposed skin to fend off the laughter.

His surprise evident, Eli nodded. “Yeah. It starts Friday night, and it’s kind of a big deal.”

“So are you gonna go? To a synagogue?”

“I dunno. Mom said there’s one not far from here. She texted me the link to their website.”

“Do you wanna go?” Liam pressed at Eli, examining the shape of his reluctance.

“It’s... complicated.”

“How is it complicated?”

“Let me count the ways,” Eli joked, perversely invoking Shakespeare.

“Seriously, count them for me, then,” Liam insisted. He had titled the chair on its back legs again, previous embarrassment forgotten in a gift of resiliency Eli coveted.

“Okay, well, first, I’m supposed to go to a synagogue that I’ve never been to before, and I’m supposed to do it by myself. Second, once I get there, I’m going to have to talk to a bunch of people I don’t know and field off a bunch of questions and it’ll be so fucking awkward. And third, that’s the weekend before my test on Monday in trig.”

“Remind me again why you’re taking trig as a psych major?” Liam asked.

Eli nudged a leg of Liam’s chair, sending the winger crashing back down again. “And _fourth_ ,” he continued, aggravation roughening his voice, “my mom suggested it would be a perfect place to meet a nice, Jewish girl.”

“Oh.” Liam scuffed his shoes together. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So don’t go.”

“I can’t just... not go.” A thread of panic wove its way into Eli’s tone. “This is a big fucking deal. We always go to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.”

“Ooh! I could get you sick!” Liam exclaimed, turning in his chair to face Eli directly.

A flush of mortification cooled rapidly into a frostbite of fear before Eli realized the innocence of Liam’s offer.

“But you’re not sick,” Eli replied, the words alone growing tendrils of excitement along his body.

“Not yet. But I could be. There’s this guy who sits next to me in my Spanish class, and he was in bad shape today, blowing his nose a billion times and sneezing a bunch. He covers his nose and mouth with his hands and then he wipes his hands on his pants, and I’d be willing to bet he’s getting germs everywhere. We’re supposed to study together tonight for our first oral exam, and I could totally borrow one of his pencils and then put it in my mouth or something. Or, like, when he’s about to sneeze, I could lean over to look at his notes.”

Eli was squeezing his thighs together and counting up to one hundred in multiples of threes, but he felt himself grow hard, and a blush raced up his neck, unstoppable.

“I, uh, appreciate that, but I think I really should, um, make myself go,” Eli stammered.

“Suit yourself,” Liam replied in a sing-song voice. “Just remember that I was willing to let someone sneeze on me just to get me sick, so I could sneeze on you and get _you_ sick. That’s friendship right there.”

* * *

When Quinn arrived at the study area in the Natural Sciences Building, he looked even worse than he had in class that morning. His long black hair was pulled back in a somewhat haphazard braid, and a pair of bent, wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his pink nose. Even from several feet away, Liam could see the moisture glistening at the tip, and he watched, entranced, as Quinn sniffed it into those round, reddened nostrils, only for it to leak back out a moment later. Liam steered himself through a series of logical steps.

_Eli obviously got flustered when I mentioned getting sick. Corbin probably told him about his thing for sneezing, and now Eli finds it kind of intimate or sexy or something because of what it does to Corbin. And if I did get sick, then I could tease the fuck out of Corbin, which would be hella fun. And maybe even get him sick. So, Rosh Hashanah or not, my best course of action here is really to catch Quinn’s cold._

“Heya, Quinn.” Liam greeted his classmate with enthusiasm. 

“Hey, Liam. *sniff* How’s it going?” Quinn set down his backpack on one of the navy blue plush chairs and swiped unselfconsciously at his nose with his wrist.

“I’m good. Nervous about the exam, of course. How are you? Still under the weather?”

“God, being sick sucks. I can’t make this tickle go away, and it feels like I’m either constantly sneezing or about to sneeze.”

“Aww, that does suck, man. I’m sorry. We’ll try to get through this quickly so you can go rest,” Liam answered. Quinn seated himself across from Liam, tugging on the hem of his black jeans when it caught on his shoes. He wore a plain black t-shirt over a grey long-sleeve, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, showing off his light brown skin.

As Quinn pulled out his notebook, Liam moved to sit next to him, his heartbeat quickening at his boldness.

“Okay, so what did you get down about the grading criteria?” Liam asked.

“Hey, you shouldn’t sit so close. *sniff* I know I’m contagious,” Quinn warned, edging away from Liam. His hand disappeared into his backpack and resurfaced with a squashed box of tissues.

“Eh, it’s fine. I never get sick, Liam insisted, pulling his chair closer to his ill classmate.

“That’s... hih! good, because I’m gonna... hhh... snhh... sneeze!”


	27. Ḳuyaruḳ

When Quinn closed his eyes, Liam switched from stealing glances at him through his peripheral vision to looking at him outright, openly staring.

He had tiny black metal hoop piercings in both ears, and a small scar careened along his cheek. His nose looked soft and squishy, with a wide tip and nostrils that were almost perfectly rounded. Liam imagined the thousands of tiny germs in the wetness that laced Quinn’s nose, and fought the urge to reach out and dip his finger in the clear moisture that had gathered on Quinn’s upper lip.

Quinn had the tissue in hand, and brought it to his face, obscuring Liam’s view as he shivered a few times. Here, outside of the classroom, Quinn allowed himself audible build-ups.

“Nnnihh! Iyyyehhh!! _Heh-nnggshhuuu!_ ” Quinn released the sneeze into the tissue, soaking it. He crumpled it and shoved it somewhere in his backpack, then wiped both his hands on his jeans, just like he had done in class.

“Bless you,” Liam offered. He had remembered to sit back just before Quinn opened his eyes, although the tissue had meant none of the sneeze escaped to spray him. _Maybe I need to try harder._

“Oh, *sniff* _ḳuyaruḳ_.” The word tumbled from Quinn’s lips, a sliver of ice carried along a river. “Thank you,” he added, seeing the winger’s knitted brow.

“That’s not Spanish,” Liam laughed, momentarily forgetting his quest to catch Quinn’s cold. “Spanish is _gracias_. What language is that?”

Quinn’s dark brown eyes crinkled, and he added his laughter to Liam’s.

“Iñupiaq.”

Liam repeated the word. “Iñupiaq. Kah... yark?” he fumbled.

“ _Ḳuyaruḳ_ ,” Quinn repeated, then sniffled several times. “I... hhh! giiyyhhh! hiieeeghh! _Heee-ISHHuuu!_ ”

Watching the build-ups with rapt attention, and noticing Quinn had not reached for the tissues, Liam scooted closer and breathlessly tilted his face close to his germ-filled classmate. To his delight, Quinn sneezed openly, not covering or turning away or making any effort to contain the spray. A dozen glistening droplets landed on Liam’s face, and he licked his lips swiftly, coveting the germs. _I’m gonna be able to tease Corbin for days with this, and keep him up all night, restless with desire. God, it’s gonna be great._

Quinn’s voice shocked Liam back to the present. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Here, uh, I have tissues,” he mumbled, face glowing with embarrassment. He offered the box of tissues to Liam, who plucked one and dabbed at his cheeks and nose, wiping up the spray.

“It’s alright, really. Like I said, I never get sick. And bless you, by the way.”

“Thank you. Anyway, let’s get working on this oral exam for Spanish, because I’ve got a serious headache and I think I should take more cold medicine and lie down.”

“Alright, sounds good.”

The two practiced their pronunciation, taking turns asking questions from the book.

“ _¿Y qué hora es?_ ” Quinn asked.

“ _Es la seis y cuarto_ ,” Liam answered.

“ _Son las seis y cuarto_ ,” Quinn corrected. “It’s plural because six hours is multiple hours.” He tapped the textbook, as if quoting a sentence from the page, then sniffed twice.

“Okay, _son las_. So, uh, my turn.” Liam shifted in his chair, moving closer. “ _¿Cuántos años tiene su hermano?_ ”

“ _Tu hermano, y no tengo un_... *sniff* _un hermahh_... hhiihh! ngghihhh! _Ieeiggshuuu!_ ”

“ _¡Salud!_ ” Liam offered. “And, okay, well, _¿cuántos años tiene su_ —uh, I mean, _tu_ — _hermana_?”

“ _No tengo una hermana_ , um, either,” Quinn answered. “How do you say ‘either’ in Spanish?”

“I don’t know. It’s gotta be in this chapter.”

Liam flipped through the pages of the textbook, but kept his eyes on Quinn. His classmate was rubbing softly at his damp nose, and Liam saw Quinn take his hand away, his fingers glistening with more wetness.

A sudden scene played out in Liam’s mind. Quinn under him, his long black hair undone from the braid, and Liam taking Quinn’s fingers into his mouth and suckling on them, one by one, as Quinn whimpered and squirmed.

“God,” Liam muttered.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, I just... can’t find it in here anywhere. Let’s just, um, move on.”

“Alright. My turn to ask you.”

They spent another half hour quizzing each other before they finally wrapped up their study session and said goodnight, agreeing to meet up again the next day.


End file.
